Inner Peace
by JustAnotherPseudonym
Summary: SEQUEL TO MAD WORLD. It's a few years later. Sara, Catherine, and Lindsey have supported Mel and helped her get well. It's now time Mel starts giving back to them. CathSara Femslash
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own any CSI character. This is the sequel to _Mad World _and reading that is vital to understanding _Inner Peace_. This is rated M for language, violence, and sexual content.**

**Chapter 1**

I'm driving back from school, doing my best to not get into an accident. Mom and Catherine wanted me to do my best to get back in time to go to some school function that Lindsey is somehow a part of. Catherine wasn't too up on the giving of details to what it was exactly that I was supposed to be going to. She just told me that Nikki was supposed to meet us there and that they would reserve me a chair. Often times, I still wonder if they all somehow got fired from their jobs and have just discovered a crafty way of hiding it from me. It seems like they've got a lot of time on their hands.

Me? I don't quite have it as easy. Being a full time student and working a part-time job just isn't as easy as my parents led me to believe that it would be. They were all smiling faces and happy words when they encouraged me to do all this, but they seemed to leave out the parts about lack of sleep and lack of time. It's been almost a week since I've gotten a chance to see Nik. I've been so busy at work that I just decided to sleep in the spare room there. I can barely even remember the last time I saw Catherine, Mom and Lindsey in the same room all at the same time. Usually when I get a chance to hang out with any of them, it's individually and for short bursts of time.

So this thing that Lindsey is involved in at school better be worth the hassle of getting out of class early and out of work completely. Don't get me wrong, I care deeply about my younger sister, but at this point sleep is starting to mean more to me, not that I would ever mention that to Lindsey's face.

I make it to Lindsey's school and as promised my family is waiting in front of the building for me. Catherine levels a glare at me that lets me know she's not happy that I'm late. I put a big smile on my face anyway and kiss and hug both my parents then turn to Nikki and wrap my arms around her. We walk into the school building and Catherine leads us to the school's cafeteria where a bunch of art is on display. In the very front of the room is a painting that seems to be some kind of rendition of, well me. It has a big blue ribbon on it proclaiming that it's won first place in the regional competition.

Okay, so I take back even thinking that I would want sleep over anything involving Lindsey at all. I walk up to the painting and bend over to get a close look at it. It's like looking through a window that is broken into four sections. In the upper left-hand section there's me standing against a wall with some of my hair covering my face. My body looks strong but the one eye that is exposed from between my hair is glistening and there's a tear running down the curve of my cheek.

In the upper right hand pane I'm standing outside on the roof of some house overlooking an ocean and am screaming up at the sky. Rain falls down on my face and the wind is blowing my hair wildly in all directions. There are cuts on my wrists and hands and blood is flowing down the open wounds. I'm wearing nothing but a white tank top and boxer shorts that are so wet they are clinging to my body like a second skin.

That image brings back some memories that I can't clearly remember these days. The girl in this image is in pain. I remember that pain. I won't ever be able to forget it, nor do I really want to.

My eyes move down to the lower left-hand image and there I am on the roof of a building that is clearly labeled hospital. I'm in a wheelchair and my arms and hands are bandaged. I'm in a hospital gown that has spots of blood on it, but the big difference about this image and the others is that I'm not alone. Nikki is standing behind me with each of her hands on the back handles of the wheelchair. Catherine is bending down on my right and her hand is covering my own. Lindsey is sitting on my left and her head is on my shoulder. Mom is in front of me. Both of her hands rest on my knees and she's leaning down and placing a kiss on top of my forehead. All of our eyes are closed and there are tears running down all of our faces.

The last image, the lower right-hand image, is bright and colorful. I'm lying down in a park with a big smile on my face. The scars on my arms and hands are exposed but don't look angry and menacing. Somehow, Lindsey has made them look as if they were just a part of my skin as if I was born with them. Nikki is lying next to me, except this time she's in her police uniform. Catherine and Mom are off to the side with their hands joined smiling at me and Nikki. Lindsey is behind Nikki and me holding what looks like a water balloon and is about to throw it directly at my face. We're all happy and we're all together.

The title of Lindsey's piece of work is "Towards Family".

I never even knew she was working on anything like it. No one ever said anything to me and they all must have known about it. Lindsey isn't very good a keeping secrets, even though there are some secrets of hers that I wish she didn't feel the need to tell me. I swear that when Lindsey told me she lost her virginity I couldn't look Catherine in the face for almost a whole month. I thought that if Catherine got a clear look in my eyes then she would somehow guess what it was I was trying to not tell her.

"Is it okay?" Lindsey asks tentatively from behind me. "Do you like it? Are you angry?"

"Are you selling it?" I ask, not taking my eyes off of the painting.

"We had the option to auction it, but I don't want to. I want to give it to you."

I nod.

"Are you angry?" She asks me again. "Is it okay? Mom and Sara said you wouldn't be angry, but I didn't really believe them. They said that since you loved me then you would love it, but now that I think about it that's not really true. You could hate it and still love me."

Finally, I turn away from the painting and reach out towards Lindsey. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and whisper into her ear, "It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life. This deserves much more than a ribbon, Linds." I pull away and place a soft kiss on her cheek.

When we pull apart we're each smiling and I can tell that Lindsey is more than happy to win my seal of approval. She runs away from us to seek out some person in the crowd and tells me to stay exactly where I am. Once she's far enough away, Mom leans over to me. "Are you really okay with this?"

"There's nothing in that painting except the truth, Mom."

When we all decided that it was time for me to go away for school and get out on my own, we all sat down and talked about what that would mean. My parents weren't too willing to let me go at the time, but they knew that it was ultimately my decision. They may have started to push me towards normalizing my life, but I'm the one that put it into hyper-drive. Once I decided to get on with school and everything I just sort of told them that I had to accept everything that happened and not try to hide away from anything. That ultimately meant that I had to face the truth of what I…what we all had been through and not try to hide from any of it. I couldn't hide from what my grandparents had put me through. I couldn't hide from what my mother had done and I couldn't hide from what I had done from myself.

Like the scars that Lindsey drew onto my body, I had to accept them as part of me. Everything had to be exposed instead of covered up. That was the only way I could become someone else than the person my past had made me.

Lindsey comes running back over to me pulling along a woman I can't remember ever seeing before. "This is my art teacher Ms. Carla," Lindsey tells me then turns to Ms. Carla, "Ms. Carla, this is my sister Melinda. She's a real person."

I hold out my hand for Ms. Carla to take. She smiles at me and softly takes my hand then quickly pulls away. She looks nervous for some reason. I didn't know I was that intimidating. "I've heard a lot about you." She tells me, her eyes shifting over to the painting then quickly back to me.

"I'll take that as a compliment." I smile then turn to Catherine, Mom and Nikki who have been standing silently behind me. "I'm not sure if you've met the rest of the clan," I move back a bit. "These are our parents Catherine and Sara and my girlfriend Nikki."

Ms. Carla pushes her glasses up then nods at each of them. "Yes, I've met them. They were at the school's first open house for the art students." She smiles at me. "I was told you were out of town."

Before I can respond someone calls out for Ms. Carla and she's hurrying across the cafeteria to probably do more meet and greets. Lindsey runs off as well and tells me that I need to, again, stay where I am and wait. She brings a few of her friends over who bring some of their parents. For an hour Lindsey has me meeting people that I'll probably never see again.

When we finally get out of there, Lindsey has talked me into going out with her and a few (hundred) of her friends. Nikki and I meet up with them at some restaurant that I didn't even know existed. It is also a pool hall and teenage club type place. Mom and Catherine gave their pre-approval of the place so I didn't think it would be too bad. They failed to mention that Nikki and I would be surrounded by a bunch of teenagers that fail to realize that fun can consist of speaking at decibels below ear drum bursting levels.

Lindsey may have wanted me to come with her, but I have hardly seen her since we walked in the door. She ran away with some of her friends. She's come to see me every once in a while, though, to get some more money from me. Nikki and I are playing pool. "You really suck at this game." Nikki tells me as she drops the eight ball into another corner pocket winning yet another game.

"Sucking is all relative." I say as I take a seat in front of her on top of the pool table. "Anyway, you get more chance to practice since you go out with all of your cop buddies all the time to bars and…wait do you guys anywhere else besides bars?" I wait for a moment before I continue. "Oh I remember you go to strip clubs too."

Nikki's body sags against mine. "Are we seriously going to talk about this again?"

"No," I sigh, "we're not." I jump down from the table and wrap my arms around her body. "You already know I don't like some of the people you hang around."

Nikki's arms go around me and she pulls me closer to her. "And you should know that I didn't like how 'Ms. Carla' was checking you out all night."

"She was?" I didn't notice that at all. She seemed nervous and shy the few times she came over to talk to me or so, but I didn't know what any of that was about. I assumed she was just nervous about meeting the real life model that Lindsey was using as her inspiration.

"She was all over you, Mel."

"Oh." A smile sneaks onto my face. "That's probably because I'm really attractive."

Nikki laughs. "I can't argue with that."

"And you shouldn't."

Nikki leans forward and kisses me. When she pulls away she asks, "Tell me again why we're in some teen club when we haven't seen each other at all for a week."

"Lindsey wanted to spend some time with me."

"And where is she?"

"I have no idea."

"We should leave."

Lindsey runs up to us and immediately Nikki and I pull apart. Nikki is reaching in her back pocket to pull out her wallet. Lindsey has already managed to take all the cash I was carrying on me and I refuse to let her loose with my debit card. I'm not as rich as Lindsey might think I am. It's amazing how hospital bills, school bills and therapist bills can add up over the years. Most of my inheritance went towards making me well. There's a certain kind of poetic justice if one were to really think about it. My grandparents' money went to making me well. That's something they probably never thought would end up happening to the money. They probably thought I would waste it all on…well on something else.

"Mandy wants me to stay the night with her," Lindsey tells me as she absently accepts the ten dollar bill Nikki holds out to her. "Mom said she wanted me at home tonight."

"Then you better tell Mandy you can't stay with her." I say making sure to keep my voice firm. Honestly, I'd rather let Mandy take Lindsey with her so that I don't have to drop Lindsey off back home. I rather just let Nikki take me back to our apartment so that we can have a real conversation without a few hundred onlookers.

"Mom's just being overprotective and hostile since she found out about Zach."

I turn to Nikki. "Catherine found out about Zach?" Nikki nods. "Does she know that I knew before she did?"

Nikki runs her hands through her hair. "About that, you might not want to be alone in a room with her for a while. She does carry a gun."

"Well did she know that you knew before she knew?" I can't be the only one that is in trouble. "Wait. How did she even find out about it?"

"Nikki forced me to tell her because she thought it was time I get on birth control." Lindsey shoots Nikki a menacing glare that leaves Nikki completely unaffected. "She's lucky that killing her would be considered a capital offense."

"Wait." I don't have the brain power right now to handle the kind of confusion I'm going through right now. "I thought you went to Planned Parenthood right after you told me. You said you were going to, Lindsey, and I believed you. That was the deal we made so that I would let you tell Sara and Catherine about you sleeping with Zach on your own."

Lindsey looks away from me and starts staring at her shoes. I cross my arms in front of me and Lindsey at least has the decency to look somewhat ashamed. "Go tell Mandy that there is no way in Hell that you're staying with her tonight because there is no way in Hell that your sister is going to convince your mother that you're responsible enough to handle being unsupervised." Lindsey opens her mouth and I'm sure she's about to say something that will make me a lot angrier than I already am, so I hold up my hand to forestall her words. "Just leave. We'll meet you outside."

She stomps away from us and as soon as she's lost in the crowd Nikki puts her arms back around me. "How was it that I missed all this?" I ask more upset at myself now than I actually am at Lindsey. There's so much stuff I'm missing now. If I had been around more than there would have been no way that Lindsey could have hid that painting from me or anything else for that matter. I'd actually know what was going on in this family.

It's been three years since I started to piece my life back together and entered college. Perhaps I've gotten a little carried away with the living thing and have forgotten a little about the loving thing. It's been hard enough just trying to maintain my relationship with Nikki. The other day when I was talking with Mom on the phone I actually called her Sara. I think it kind of freaked us both out a little since the last time I used her first name was when we weren't really on the best of terms. She asked me if I was upset with her and then followed that question up with asking me if I was still taking my medication. That just led to us fighting about her trusting me to handle my own life.

"You've been busy, Mel." Nikki eventually responds. Somehow, I get the feeling that she really wants to tell me something else but is too busy trying to be supportive and leaves out the part about how she really feels.

I lean more of my weight against her. "Don't you really mean that I've been a self-absorbed ass too busy to pay attention to the people I love the most in the world?"

Nikki chuckles softly. "Remember those are your words, besides I think you're beating yourself up enough without my help right now."

"Okay." I kiss Nikki then pull away from her and grab onto her hand. "First we drop Lindsey off at home and then we go back home and figure out how I'm going to fix all this."

Nikki lets me pull her to the exit but once we're outside in the cool night air she lets go of my hand and wraps her arms back around my body. "Baby," she squeezes me to her, "we'll fix this."

"I know." I rub at my eyes because I don't want to start crying. "I'm just curious how I managed to get everything so fucked in a span of three years."

"It wasn't just you," Nikki whispers softly into my ear. "We all let things get a little fucked."

Lindsey comes storming out of the teen club, brushes past us and then walks ahead of us to the car. We follow her and she remains intentionally silent throughout the ride back to our parents' house. She gets out of the car and slams her door shut. I'm still feeling enough guilt to let her get away with her attitude. She stomps up to the house and opens the front door then slams it shut too.

Nikki and I wait in the driveway for a few moments then my cell phone rings and I answer it without even looking at who's calling because I already have really good idea who it is. "What happened?" Mom asks from the other end of my phone.

"Lindsey wanted to stay at Mandy's and I told her 'no'." I explain not really feeling the need to talk about my own issues about the night as well.

Mom makes some kind of grunting noise then asks, "So are you and Nikki going to stay in the driveway or are you coming inside?"

I look over at Nikki. "We're going to go back to the apartment."

"Okay. How long are you going to be sticking around this time?" If I didn't know better, and I'm starting to think that I don't, Mom sounds a little bitter. Perhaps her tone really isn't about me. I did just send an angry teenager into her house to deal with.

"I'm supposed to be back to work tomorrow." I reply softly. Nikki reaches out and puts her hand on my thigh after putting the car in reverse.

"Call us before you leave." Mom sounds a little angrier. Perhaps her anger is directed at me.

"Is something wrong?"

"We'll talk tomorrow." She sighs into the phone.

"Did you and Catherine get into another fight?" I've at least been around enough and have spent enough time talking to Lindsey and Nikki on the phone to know that Mom and Cath aren't on the best of terms right now. The way everyone tells it, they kind of think that it's Mom's fault though I'm inclined to think that a demise of their relationship could only be blamed on a cruel trick by some higher power.

"Tomorrow, Mel." Mom says then hangs up the phone as I hear Lindsey screaming something angrily in the background.

I shut my flip phone and tuck it back into my pocket. Nikki drives us back to our apartment and as soon as we get inside we collapse onto our bed. Nikki leans over me and slowly undresses me. If I were in the mood I'd be more than interested in undressing her too, but tonight isn't about sex and isn't about me wanting her. She kisses my face then my neck then finally hovers over my lips. We stare at each other for a moment then our lips meet and I finally release my self to her. I'll let her make me feel better about tonight and all the previous nights that I've noticed something going wrong with our family but turned a blind eye to it. I'll let us have tonight and perhaps tomorrow I'll let her know that I'm aware of the fact that the problems between us are just as bad as everything else. Maybe tomorrow, I'll let her know that her unfaithfulness isn't the big secret that she thought it was, and perhaps as I'm admitting all that I can admit that my faithfulness hasn't been so stellar either.

If I wasn't there every time I did it, I'd be asking myself too if I had remembered to take my medicine. But then again, I know that everything I do can't be blamed on being bi-polar. Some things that I do are simply actions that result from me acting like an idiot and trying to pretend again like I'm someone that I'm not.

"I love you," Nikki says softly as she runs her hand down my body, "more than anything."

I grab onto her and pull her closer to me. "I love you, Nik."

The thing is, I know that she's telling the truth and what's worse is that I know I'm telling the truth too. So that just means that love isn't our problem.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimers in Chapter One**

**Chapter 2**

The knocking on the front door wakes me up and if the front door were closer to the bedroom door I'd throw something at it to make the noise stop. Nikki is stirring next to me, but I stop her from actually moving and decide to be the benevolent one and answer the door. I throw the covers off of me and swing my legs over the mattress. I throw on some clothes and slowly swing open the front door.

I'm a little surprised to see a woman I don't know standing there with a white paper bag and some coffee in her hands. She seems a little confused by my presence. "Who are you?" she asks shifting the bundle in her hands. She even looks a little upset and is throwing around a tone that sounds like she might be getting angry.

"Fuck!" I hear Nikki say softly from behind me. I turn to her and take a step away from the door. She's looking at me like she expects me to blow up at her any second now. She knows I'm not stupid and I'm thankful that she doesn't act like I am. "Get rid of her," I tell her. "I'm going back to bed."

I walk away from them both and don't bother to listen to whatever it is that Nikki is telling the woman outside the door. It doesn't really matter what she tells her. One thing that I do know for sure is that Nikki is in a relationship with me. That means that whatever that woman thought she and Nikki had together is a big fat lie. Nikki and I understand each other very well. We promised that we would only have a relationship with each other so that means that everyone else is just…distractions I guess.

If we didn't love each other so much then perhaps I would have decided that us in a relationship could only lead to disaster. The mountains of problems that we each have don't really make it easy for us. My problems were really at the forefront for a while since I almost died and all, but as things calmed down Nikki's issues started to pop up around us too. She hasn't exactly gotten over all the abuse she's been put through either. She sometimes even confesses to me that she thinks about getting back involved in drugs again. She tells me that her addiction really never went away. She's talked to Catherine about it and I think they have some sort of understanding.

The bed is still warm from our bodies so I snuggle back under the covers and close my eyes. I hear the front door shut and moments later Nikki is crawling back into bed with me. Once she's settled I put my arms around her and rest my head on her chest. She runs her hand through my hair and kisses my forehead. "I'm sorry."

I yawn. "Did you break her heart?"

Her hand stops caressing my hair for a split second then begins again. "She must have misunderstood me when I told her that I never wanted to see her again."

My hand runs down her torso and I tuck it safely under her shirt. "You used protection with everyone else, right?"

She clears her throat. "Yes." She hesitates for a moment. "Have you?"

I close my eyes again. "You can just call me safety girl." I let my hand roam over her torso and her body relaxes underneath mine. "How many times?" It doesn't really matter, but I guess I feel like torturing myself a little this morning.

Her body tenses and I know it's not because my hand is resting on her breast. "Four." There's another pause. "You?"

"One." I feel her eyes on me and I know she probably thinks that I'm lying. "It only took me once to figure out that it wasn't really something I could continue doing." I just figured out that I was trying to be the person I had been before, for some stupid reason. Personally, I thought I had gotten past that a while ago but apparently there's still a part of me that enjoyed my wild child days.

It's only been a year since Nikki and I decided to be with each other in a monogamous type way. There was a reason why we had put it off for so long, but apparently both of us forgot what that reason was. Simply put, we hadn't been ready and we probably still weren't. Well, judging by the visitor this morning I'd actually be forced to confess that perhaps we're still far from ready, but I'm pretty sure that neither of us really knows what 'ready' would feel like. For most our lives we've been surrounded by dysfunctional relationships. I used to exclude Mom's and Catherine's relationship from that history, but I'm not too sure that I can do that anymore.

"Are you upset with me?" Nikki's hand runs down my back and I am actually a little tempted to just finish crawling into her body and letting everything else drift away from us. It worked last night.

"If I didn't understand you, me, us so well then perhaps I would be angry."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I know that monogamy has always been hard for us. This is the first relationship we've ever really tried at, Nik." I smile mostly for her benefit. "We're relationship virgins."

Her hand stops caressing my back. "What about what you had with Jenny?"

"I don't think we ever really got started." Sometimes when I really choose to sit and think about Jenny I feel bad about how I sort of was able to just discard her. I kind of wonder what she's doing these days. "She was a good friend, I think, mostly." I hope she's not off broken-hearted and ruined for any other relationship that may come her way. Being around me seems to carry a bit of a dramatic flare. It would almost seem fitting in a sick and sadistic way if Jenny slept with a picture of me under her pillow hoping that somehow I would find my way back to her.

I really, really hope that that isn't the case. I want Jenny to be happy and forget about all the drama that I might have put her through. We should have only been friends.

"So what do you want to do now?"

Nikki's words pull me away from the tangent my mind decided to take a dive into. It's time for me to focus and be an adult, something I find that I enjoy less and less as I get older. "I feel kind of like a hypocrite for saying this but, I think perhaps you need to start seeing a counselor on a regular basis about some of the things that have happened to you."

Nikki snorts. "They've turned you into a true believer huh?" She starts to pull away from me but I don't let her.

"It's just that, Nik, you've got some open wounds from everything that happened…before and I don't think you can even pretend that what you went through with me wasn't a little bit traumatizing." I mean, I almost killed myself on her bathroom floor the first time I see her after a long absence. That has to leave some kind of mark. My trauma wasn't all my own. I spread it around and handed a slice of it out to everyone around me who I gave a damn about. What is that term the military uses when they kill people they don't mean to? Collateral Damage?

"I'm supposed to be the strong one, Mel." She whispers and I just barely hear her. "I'm supposed to be strong enough for both of us."

"At first, maybe that's how you needed to be." I lift my head off of her chest. I open my eyes and look directly at her. "Maybe it's my turn to be strong enough for the both of us now. I don't want you to get as bad as I was before you get real help. I don't want to see the things happening to you that I made you watch me go through. I'm not sure that I'm strong enough for that."

"You didn't make me go through anything," She pulls me closer to her and leans over to kiss me. See? She's still being supportive and loving, and this conversation isn't even supposed to be about me. This is for her. This is me trying to be able to support her.

"I love you so much for staying with me," I confess not for the first time. "I may not have known it so much back then, but I really needed you with me. I still need you with me, and I think in order for me to keep you in my life then it's time I start supporting you as you get the help you need."

She turns away from me. "I'm not bi-polar, Mel."

I smile. "Hey, being bi-polar isn't that bad."

Her eyes widen, "I didn't mean that it was. I don't think there's anything wrong with it or you." That's why we decided to be together—why I decided to be with her at least. She's there for me one-hundred percent. Even if she's upset with me she still loves me. She doesn't want me to hurt.

My finger goes to her lips to stop her babbling. "I know, I know. I was just joking with you. I don't think you're making fun of my bi-polar-ness in any way."

She relaxes again. "So if I go into therapy, what does that mean for our relationship?"

"Since when have I been the one making all the decisions about our relationship?" I ask a little more forcefully than I wanted to.

"Look, Mel, I don't want to do anything that you don't want to do. If it were up to me then I'd say we get married tomorrow but since you say I'm in need of counseling then maybe we shouldn't go with what I say."

Whoa. Wait. "You want to get married?" My parents aren't even married. They keep on talking about having a formal ceremony but they never really reach the planning stages of actually doing anything to make a ceremony happen. It seems like, that they always find something else to focus on besides a marriage ceremony.

"Don't look so surprised. It's always been you, Mel. You've known that."

I guess I do know that, but her saying it aloud adds a whole new element of realness to the equation. It also makes it all that more important that we get our infidelity issues settled before we make a commitment like that. That's not the kind of marriage I want. I—I can't believe I'm even admitting this—want the fairy tale marriage. I do want a happily ever after type thing, and I honestly believe that I can have that with Nikki. She's probably the one person in the world that I could have that with, but I won't settle. "Okay. Then we have to do this right, Nik."

"Therapy." She doesn't sound entirely pleased about the concept.

"Yeah."

She nods. "Okay. You go take a shower and I'll make an appointment."

I sit up a little more and clasp her hand in mine. "Hey, I just want this because it's about time we start focusing on you instead of me. I'm as stable as I'm ever going to get. I can't continue being selfish and so self-centered. My pain isn't the only pain that exists in the whole entire world, even if there is a to-be world famous painting of me."

Finally I get a small, barely there smile from her and it makes me feel like I've just won a triathlon. It fades quickly though, unfortunately. "I don't know how not to focus on you, Mel."

"Well," I draw out the word, "apparently I'm not that good at paying attention to other people either."

"You're not as self-centered as you try to make yourself out to be." She tells me in all seriousness.

Before I can answer her, my cell phone starts ringing. I crawl over her and reach for my pants that are on the floor near the bed. I pull my phone free from the back pocket and answer it knowing already that my mother is on the other end. "I didn't wake you up, did I?" She asks not sounding really too concerned whether she ruined sleep for me or not. She still sounds angry, actually.

"Is something wrong?" I ask almost sure that I really don't want to hear the answer.

I hear Mom sigh. "Not really. Catherine wanted some time alone."

Catherine kicked her out? "Where are you?"

I hear another sigh. "Open your front door."

Well at least she didn't show up when Nikki's guest did. Nikki would have had a lot of explaining to do, and she and I try to keep our personal relationship stuff just between us. I hang up the phone and throw it next to me on the bed. It bounces a couple of times then slides off the side and onto the floor. I don't bother to pick it up. "Catherine needed space and Mom decided we would be her sanctuary." I quickly inform Nikki then jump off the bed and go to the front door. When I open it, Mom is standing there in her normal black leather jacket looking a little worse for wear. Actually, she looks like she's slightly hung over.

She walks into the apartment and pushes past me. "Thanks."

"Sure." I close the door. "What's going on, Mom?" I do my best to keep my voice neutral.

"I don't know anymore."

That was sort of a useless answer. "You want to elaborate?"

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this." Her hands run through her hair and she falls into the couch.

She may be my mother and I may love her as such, but she didn't become my mother until I was sixteen almost seventeen really. We just don't have the same relationship that most other mothers and daughters would have. We're kind of friends, but not really like friends. It's a complicated relationship. Catherine is actually more like a mother to me. I couldn't even explain how it worked out that way for us, but it is how it is. So it's not odd for me to talk about this with Mom, but it would be ultra weird if I were having this same kind of conversation with Catherine. "You came to my apartment, Mom. You want to talk to someone and Nikki is still getting dressed."

Mom covers her eyes with her forearm. "I kissed someone else."

Okay. I fall down onto the couch next to her. "Did you sleep with this someone?"

She keeps her eyes covered. "I don't think so."

"You don't think so?"

"I was kind of drunk."

I nod even though she can't see me. "Aren't you supposed to not be doing that anymore?"

She uncovers her eyes and levels her gaze on me. "Lecture me later."

I shrug. "Fine. So you kissed someone else?" I'd admit that both Nikki and I have slept with other people but I don't think that would actually make Mom feel better. I can't really compare the relationship I have with Nikki to the relationship Mom has with Catherine. Nikki and I can forgive the occasional bout of infidelity. I'm not sure if that makes us better or worse than Mom and Catherine. "Was this someone else a significant someone else or a random someone else?"

Her gaze leaves mine and tells me my answer. "Was it Sofia?" I don't really like her, but she was into Mom and could have caught her in a weak moment.

"No," Mom mumbles to the ground.

"Was it that Grissom guy?" Nikki asks as she walks into the room and settles herself next to me.

Her silence is her answer. "It was a guy?" I turn to Nikki. "And you knew about this guy?"

Nikki shrugs. "There have been rumors."

It may take me a while to completely understand all this. "I'm going to go take a shower." I get up and start making my way to the bedroom. "You should sober up some, Mom. You know Catherine will eventually call me or Nikki to see how you're doing." I'm a little surprised she hasn't called yet. She must be really upset. Hopefully she doesn't do anything stupid like try at getting some revenge. Although, I can completely see how Mom kissing their boss would be totally humiliating and all, but I'm supposed to be neutral.

"I'll make coffee." Nikki gets off the couch too and lets Mom stretch out. I wouldn't be surprised if Mom is already asleep by the time I reach the bathroom. I am a little surprised about Mom kissing a guy, though. I've met Mr. Grissom and he always seemed kind of weird to me and not at all attractive. Just imagining it now kind of gives me chills.

Nikki is so going to have to handle this situation. I'm a little queasy and neutrality just may not work out for me here. I mean, Gil Grissom?


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

**Chapter 3**

When I exit the shower, Mom is asleep on the couch. So, Nikki and I decide to just leave her there. Neither of us can be entirely sure when the last time she got a few hours sleep was, so letting her sleep now doesn't seem to be that bad of an idea. We retreat to our bedroom and close the door so that any noise we make doesn't disturb Mom's slumber.

We settle onto the bed, and since both of us believe that a television should never enter our bedroom we can either sit and stare at each other or chance talking some more. I'd opt for us to do something a little more personal, but I don't think my broken-hearted mother would appreciate overhearing Nikki and me. "So what's up with my Mom and Mr. Grissom?"

Nikki slides her body next to mine. This time it's her resting her head on my shoulder. "There have been rumors about them forever. If there wasn't a little something to it then I don't think it would have lasted this long."

"But Mom and Catherine have been together for a long time." Just picturing Mom and Mr. Grissom having some kind of intimate connection gives me the queasies. I've probably only stood face to face with the guy a total of five times, and he never really made a particularly strong impression on me. In my mind, Mom kissing Sofia would have made so much more sense. Sofia's at least kind of attractive. Maybe in a rough and soul torturing type way, Mr. Grissom could be considered attractive, but if I had a choice between Sofia and him, I'd have to choose Sofia like every time. Then again, if I had a choice between either of them and Catherine then I would choose Catherine with no hesitation whatsoever. Not that I want to sleep with Catherine or anything, but she is an attractive woman. She's just not a woman I would want to be with because she's my mother.

Okay I just figured out how to double the queasy factor.

"You going to try and talk to Catherine?" Nikki asks doing me the favor of making my brain focus on something else.

"I'm not too sure what I would say to her. I don't think I could use our relationship as a reference point."

Nikki props her head up on the center of my chest. "Does that mean you're not going to tell your parents about my infidelity?"

I chuckle softly. "I don't think that would be a good idea. You do still want them to like you, right?"

"You don't think they would understand?"

My hand runs down her back. "Catherine kicked Mom out of the house for kissing someone else. I don't think us bragging about sleeping with other people would be fully understood." My head falls further back into the pillow. "They already think that we are too young to commit to each other."

"Yeah." She sighs heavily. "Sometimes, I think they just tolerate our relationship."

"They love you, Nik."

"I know," Nikki leans down and kisses my sternum. "I think they just love me more when I'm not sleeping with you."

"It's different for them, y'know? Their entire relationship is so much different than ours. It took them, like, years to find each other and then a couple more years after that to actually get along. I'm still not too clear on the specifics of how they got together or what even made them decide to be together."

"You mean you never asked them about it?" Nikki sounds genuinely surprised by this.

I shake my head. "I never really thought to. To me, they were kind of always this package deal. I've never known them to be apart. It's hard for me to even imagine that now." I shift around a little. "Did you ask them about it?"

"Catherine said they had a hate love relationship that eventually led to them fucking like animals in the back of one of their city issued vehicles after a hard case."

"See," I say through a laugh, "Catherine would have never told me that. Thank God."

"You do know that they have sex, right?"

"I've had my suspicions," I say as seriously as I possibly can.

We smile at each other then Nikki moves so that she's covering my body with hers. "I wouldn't be too worried about them, Mel."

"I don't think I really am." I whisper. "I know it's been really hard on them ever since I blew into their lives. Mom's having to face everything that's happened to her and Catherine is facing it too." My gaze leaves hers. "I haven't made anything easy for them."

Nikki runs her hand down my face then forces me to meet her gaze again. "It's been hard, Mel, but they got you for a daughter and I say that's got to be more than a fair trade."

I smile weakly. "It doesn't take away the pain."

Nikki leans in closer to me. "It's not supposed to." She closes the gap between us but right as our lips touch there's a knock at the front door. Perhaps Nikki and I aren't supposed to be left alone today. She rolls off of me and I jump off the bed and hurry to the door before the pounding wakes Mom up. Although, judging by her dead to the world sleeping, I don't think a rocket explosion could wake her up right now.

I open the door and am a little unsettled to see Catherine standing outside. I step up to her, closing the door softly behind me. We look at each other for a moment and her deep blue gaze is starting to make me feel uncomfortable. A couple of tears fall from her eyes and she doesn't bother to wipe them away. "Is she here?"

I nod. I can't think of anything to say.

"Did she tell you what happened?"

I cross my arms in front of me. "Only the highlights."

Catherine mimics my stance. "God, Mel, I don't know how to help her. I don't even know if I have the strength anymore."

"I'm sorry." My arms drop to my sides and I want to reach out to her but I'm not entirely sure that if I hugged her right now I would be the one offering comfort. I just might turn out to be the person asking for it.

"No," Catherine wipes at her face. "I'm the one that should be sorry. We shouldn't drag you into this."

I shrug. "Maybe, maybe not."

She looks away from me then turns back and her eyes are asking me for help. Catherine really doesn't know what to do this time, and I guess for some reason she expects that I might actually have the answers. Maybe she thinks that I can understand my mother more than she can. Maybe she thinks I can tell her that Mom will get over this whole thing she's doing and everything will go back to the way things were…before.

"I'm going to do the best I can, Cath." I guess that means that I'm going to have to start talking about Laura Sidle again. I guess that means that I'm going to have to hear Mom's stories instead of telling my own. That must mean that I'm going to have to deal with my conception without the anger that usual accompanies the story, because it's Mom's anger that I'll have to work through. It means that I might have to deal with Mom saying she was angry at me just like I was angry at her. "I'll do whatever I have to."

The door opens behind me and by the look on Catherine's face I can tell that it's not Nikki who's standing behind me. Mom stumbles past me, and by just looking at her I can't tell what she's going to do. She opens her mouth and I feel the sudden urge to interrupt her, because I'm not entirely confident that she's not going to say something that will make things that much worse for her. I know that when I was reaching my lowest point I said a whole lot of things that I wish I hadn't. Sometimes pain talks a lot more loudly than one person can control.

"Did you come here to get her to kick me out too?" See, I knew I should have said something first. "She doesn't have to listen to you. She's my daughter not yours."

"Hey!" I turn to face my mother. "Both of you are my parents, equally." Although, Catherine feels a little more like a mother, but I don't think this would be the time and place to admit that. I probably should never admit that, actually.

"Fine!" Sara spits out at me. "I'll leave."

I grab onto her arm before she can go anywhere. "Go back inside, please."

She looks at me and I know she's contemplating a fight. Lucky for me, I'm taller and stronger than she is. I may have given up playing sports competitively but I still have an athlete's body. I worked too hard for it to just let it wither away.

Mom must sense that I'm not going to back down and that she can't intimidate me, because she turns around and goes back inside. She probably would have done herself a favor if she had at least tried to apologize to Catherine once instead of being all with the attitude.

I turn back to Catherine who looks a lot angrier than she did just a few moments ago. "Was I that bad?" I ask already knowing what her answer will be, but some of the anger has drained away from her features so asking the question was worth it.

"You were worse."

I smirk. "Of course I was." My smirk fades. "Some of this is my fault." I see the protest forming and I speak up so that she doesn't lie to me. "I'm a big girl now, Catherine. I can face the truth that me coming to Vegas didn't make your lives easier."

She lays her hand on my shoulder. "We don't regret anything, and any problems that are between Sara and me were there long before you showed up."

"Okay," I say through a sigh. My hand runs through my hair and I shift my stance. "I should probably go back inside and make sure that Sara isn't beating up on Nikki."

Catherine nods and her hand falls from my shoulder. "Okay, Sweetie."

Aw hell. I jump at her and wrap my arms around her body. It doesn't matter who is offering who comfort. There isn't a rule that I know of that says that the comfort can't be mutual. Her arms go around me and already I'm starting to feel better and by how Catherine's body has relaxed a little perhaps she's starting to feel a little better too.

"If you need anything you call me," I whisper to her. "I'm not just here for Mom and Nikki isn't either."

She pulls away from me and her tears have returned. I don't wipe them away for her, because I think she needs them right now. I step away from her and as much as I wish that there was some way that I could invite her inside and be with her, I can't. It's not really possible for me to be there for both of them at the exact same time, and right now I think Mom is in need of some tough love. I'm not going to sit down and watch her ruin her life and push away her family because she's got some childhood issues. She wouldn't let me do it, neither of them would.

"I've already forgiven her for this," Catherine tells me as my hand goes to the doorknob.

"I already figured," I tell the door. If she hadn't forgiven Mom then she wouldn't have been standing at my doorstep.

"I can't promise that I always will, though." Her voice sounds a lot…harder when she says that. "I've already been forced to survive through one abusive relationship and I won't suffer through another, not even for Sara."

I know she's not talking about physical abuse. She's talking about the emotional kind, the kind that leaves scars that no one can see. "I wouldn't want you to," I look at her over my shoulder. "Not even for Mom."

We understand each other perfectly. I turn back to the door and I can already hear Catherine's footsteps fading away. I think she just might be the strongest woman that I've ever met, but even she can't be strong forever. I wouldn't even ask her to try. It wouldn't be fair of anyone else to ask that of her.

I take a deep breath then open the door. Mom is waiting for me but she doesn't look nearly as angry as she did when she stepped outside just a few minutes ago. She almost looks like she's realized that she screwed up. Nikki is hanging out in the kitchen, probably doing her best to stay out of Mom's way. "She forgives you." Relief washes over Mom's face. "But that doesn't give you a free pass," I add quickly. "What you did was still wrong."

Mom snorts. "Like you're one to judge," she mutters but I still hear her perfectly.

"I'm the perfect one to judge," I can't hold the anger completely at bay. I don't think that I can actually be neutral. I am so biased right now.

Mom shakes her head. "I shouldn't even be here."

"Well you have to be somewhere," Nikki says from behind her, "and I don't suggest you go to work right now."

"That would be better than being yelled at by my daughter."

This may be completely wrong of me, especially in a moment like this, but hearing Mom call me her daughter still makes me happy. I'm almost completely willing to forget everything she's done just because she's admitted that she's getting yelled at by me, although I'm not yelling at her. My tone might sound a little angry but I haven't raised my voice.

"No it wouldn't," Nikki replies. "Now isn't the best time to see Grissom."

"Despite the rumors of me being madly in love with him, I'm not really that interested."

Thank God. "Then why did you kiss him?"

"He was there."

Nikki and I both understand that more than Mom probably knows. "Besides, Nikki," she continues, "you should know not to believe all the rumors."

"What do you mean?" Nikki nervously asks.

"There are rumors about you and some EMT too," Mom explains.

I wonder if it was the EMT who was at the door this morning.

Nikki is looking at me and I'm not quite sure what she expects me to do. Unfortunately, Mom is a lot more observant than Nikki probably wants. She can read body language well enough and her job does require for her to notice things that would probably remain unnoticed by others. "Are they just rumors?" Mom asks Nikki.

Nikki looks to me again, but all she's going to get from me is my silence. I can't defend her because I'm not really involved in these rumors. If Mom is going to get a lie then it has to come from Nikki. "I would never hurt Mel, Sara, you know that."

That's not a lie. It's not exactly the whole truth either. "I trust Nikki, Mom." That's not a lie either, and it must satisfy Mom somewhat because she turns away from studying Nikki and looks down at the floor. I think it's time we take a break from all this. At least I know that I could use a break. "Why don't you just go to the bedroom and rest, Mom? We don't need to do all this in one day."

Mom nods. "Yeah." She walks away from me and goes to the bedroom. She shuts the door behind her. She probably feels like being alone right now. I don't blame her.

I turn my attention to Nikki who is still staring at the bedroom door. I walk up to her and wrap my arms around her. She turns in my embrace and wraps her arms around me too. "Your parents are going to find out about what I've done," she tells me softly.

"Maybe, but it doesn't really matter. We understand each other, Nik." We always have and that's what's really important. We both understand that sometimes we can become overwhelmed and we need someone who is 'there' to help keep us away from whatever dark place we were falling into, and we can't always be there for each other. Sex isn't the best way to handle things, no one needs to tell either of us that, but habits are sometimes hard to break.

"I love you, Mel, and I did make that appointment. It's next Wednesday."

"Okay," I lean further into Nikki's arms. I don't know if I can help Mom enough so that she doesn't lose her relationship, but I at least know that I can work hard enough to keep mine. The real question, I guess, is going to be whether that will be enough for me. "I love you too, Nik."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

**Chapter 4**

Nikki's gone into work, and I called my boss and quit my paid internship at the neuroscience research lab on campus. That's definitely going to leave a bad mark on my record, but I simply don't have the time to do it anymore. Other more important things have come up. Although, I don't think I'm going to admit to either of my parents that I've quit just yet. They were so proud of me getting that opportunity that they'd probably just get back together for however long it took them to nag at me about giving up such an important and prestigious internship. Then, once they're through with me they just might turn on each other blaming the other for making me feel the need to quit. Who knows?

I'm just going to have to tell them that I took a leave of absence. Maybe they'll both be too distracted to bother and ask questions. At least I can hope that they are, although my life probably offers them a good diversion from theirs. I don't exactly like keeping secrets, but I don't necessarily believe that they need to know everything even if that is what they believe.

Before Nikki left, I did get a chance at asking her if the woman who showed up at our doorstep earlier this morning was the EMT Mom was talking about; she promised me that it wasn't the same woman. She said that I've never met the EMT, but that doesn't necessarily mean that I never will. Due to my parents' job and Nikki's job I've often met members of the Las Vegas emergency services.

Nikki and I both know that if I ever do meet this woman, I'm not going to turn the introductions into an Ultimate Fighter match. I won't do anything at all; perhaps that's why Nikki didn't hesitate to tell me her name. I wouldn't hesitate telling Nikki the graduate student's name I had 'relations' with either.

It's not that I'm proud of what either of us has done. I'm not. To a certain extent, I'm disappointed in both of us and am a little disgusted by it, because we actually used other people. We didn't care about their feelings or about what might happen to them after we were through with them. We just used them. I cared a lot less about that when I was younger and in a manic episode. I cared a lot less about a whole lot then, but I can't help but care about it now and think about consequences when before I hardly even knew how to pronounce the word.

So no, if I ever meet that EMT, her name's Justine, I won't try and attack her out of a jealous lover's rage. I'll feel sorry for her and maybe that's just as bad. I don't know. She probably wouldn't want that from me. It's hard to decide how to feel about these things. Sometimes I wish that I could just sit down with Mom and ask her about all this, but I don't think that I actually can because Mom did things differently than I did.

Mom hides herself away and locks herself up. She self-destructs from the inside out while I go about it the other way. I tear myself apart from the outside in. She might start drinking, but at least her first decision isn't to just try and fuck the pain away. I've slept with so many more people than she has, but hey, at least I'm not an alcoholic, right? Mom says that alcohol isn't her problem. I say she didn't need to tell me that. That part is obvious, because sex wasn't my problem either.

When all my doctors put their brains together and figured out that I was bi-polar that wasn't the only thing that was wrong with me. Being bi-polar was just a condition that I could work through and learn to live with. It wasn't the big excuse for all of my behavior, although it did answer for some of the extreme things that I had done. A lot of what I did was a result of what I had been put through as a child. The torture that I endured, and the memories my brain felt the need to suppress really acted as the coal that kept my fire burning out of control. I had to deal with all of that first, then I could focus on being bi-polar.

I don't think Mom is bi-polar. I'm sure that someone would have caught onto that by now, especially since I've been around. I think that she just hasn't completely dealt with what our…her parents have completely done to us, and I don't think I can even begin to understand how she feels about what they did to me. I honestly don't know how she feels now about having left me with them.

I remember that a while ago Catherine was upset at me because I didn't really understand what Mom was going through. I think she just got frustrated with me always taking all my pain and anger out on Mom since she was an easy target. It hadn't fully occurred to me, yet, that Mom and I had actually endured a lot of the same hardships. My brain never really got the fact that my tormentors were hers as well. Maybe, three years ago I wasn't ready to face that, but now I get it. I have no idea how to talk about it with Mom, but at least I understand that my mother didn't walk away from me and her parents without any scars.

"What are you doing?" Mom has finally woken up and realized that I'm sitting on the edge of the bed watching her sleep.

I turn my eyes away from her. "Waiting for you to wake up, I guess."

She props herself up and rubs at her face. "What time is it?"

I'd say that it's time for her to get her shit together, but that may not be too well received and is probably not the way I want to bring up her past. "Sometime in the evening," I tell the bedroom window, still not quit able to turn back and look at my mother lying on the bed. "Nikki has gone to work. She promised to tell Mr. Grissom that you needed a sick day."

"Should I thank you?" I haven't always enjoyed Mom's sarcasm, but I'm sure she hasn't always been a fan of mine either.

Mom and I have always been quick to fight, or maybe it was just me who was quick to fight with her. Either way, I can't let a fight break out now. I guess that means that I'm going to have to acquire some patience. "Only if you really want to. I'm not going to ask for it."

"What are you going to ask for?" I can tell, even though I'm not looking at her, that she's sitting up on the bed now. Hopefully she's not ready to run away, because I don't feel like chasing after her.

"Mom, I just want you to tell me what it is that you're too afraid to share with Catherine." I know I'm not exactly asking for something simple. "I want you to tell me why it is you've decided to act like you are."

"You know what it is."

The coldness in Mom's voice forces me to turn to her. "I can put a name to it, but I'm a little low on all the details of all the emotional shit that comes with it."

The silence that follows my words leads me to believe that Mom isn't going to say anything. I can understand why she doesn't want to. So instead of forcing her to talk I lay myself down next to her and pull her back down with me. I settle my arms across her and the comfort I get from being snuggled up to her almost overwhelms me. We may be more like sisters than mother and daughter, but the few times we've actually been this close I can only ever think of her as my Mommy, no matter how childish that might be. When we're like this, I know that she's mine and that I'm really lucky to have been given the chance to know it.

"I don't think I told you," I whisper into her chest, "but I remembered something the other day."

Her hand starts rubbing circles on my back. "What?"

"I was almost two when you left, right?"

Her hand stills just for a split second. "Yeah."

"I remember leaning against your legs in the kitchen." For a long time I thought I had just made the memory up in a desperate attempt to cling onto something that didn't seem so negative. "I had my arms wrapped around your leg and you were looking down at me. You had your hand on my back. You were smiling, Mom."

She blinks a few times and I can hear her swallow. "Every time I sat down, you would hug my leg," her voice sounds a little coarse. "I would try to sit you down in my lap, but you wanted to stand up on your own."

I find myself blinking away my own tears. "But I didn't want to let you go."

"When I got kicked out, Mel, I thought of taking you with me. I even packed a bag for you." Tears escape from her eyes and it makes my own free themselves as well. "I had everything ready and I had you in my arms, but when I got to the door I realized that I didn't have anywhere to go. I didn't have any money and all I had was four diapers left in your bag. They wouldn't let me stay and I couldn't take you with me."

I close my eyes and take a deep breath then slowly release it. "I know. I-I understand."

"I thought they would kill me if I tried to stay. Worse, I thought they would hurt you to get back at me if I didn't leave. Mom said she would let you drown yourself in the bathtub."

"She must have used me a lot to threaten you."

Mom gives a slight nod. "I tried so hard to be perfect so that you would be safe."

"But perfection didn't exist to her, Mom."

"I know, but I still tried." She lets out a sardonic chuckle. "Then I fucked up."

"I don't think the gay thing was really that big of a deal to her," I tighten my hold on her. "I think it was just something else they could use to make you feel worthless. I think it was just something they knew they could use to kick you out and fuck us both up. They made you think you were too worthless to care for me and made me think that I was too worthless to be cared for."

"It hurts so much, Mel." Mom is sobbing now. Her body is shaking and I think the only thing that is keeping her on the bed is the hold I have on her. "They were able to hurt me so much."

"They were experts at it, Mom." They were bastards that probably deserved a much more painful death than the one they got.

I don't know what else I can say to her. I may have gotten her to talk about one thing that she went through, but I'm sure there's a lot more where that came from. I'm not exactly sure how many stories need to be told before things start getting better. I don't know how many stories I told before I started to feel better. It's hard to compartmentalize the stories into categories of which are the important ones that caused deep torment and which are the ones that caused just regular torment.

Mom doesn't know everything that happened to me while I lived with her parents. Catherine doesn't know and Nikki doesn't either. I doubt any of them will ever know everything. I doubt that even I could remember everything. I doubt that I would even want to remember everything. I have enough waking and sleeping nightmares to deal with already. I don't need to add anything else on, and I doubt that Mom does either.

On some days I remember things better than I do on others. I know that sounds weird, but that's just the way it is. Some days, I can almost completely forget anything has ever happened to me. Then there are those days that all I can think about is what happened. Since I've come to Vegas and have had family around me those days grow further and further apart, but I think also since I've come to Vegas that those days for Mom have grown closer and closer together.

I know that I have to be some kind of big fat neon glowing reminder to Mom of what happened to her. I've got some stories of abuse that match her own, but there's some that just don't match and never will. See, I was never raped. I was never blackmailed into walking away from my child. I never had to deal with my daughter hating me and then try to unknowingly off herself in some stranger's apartment. I never had my homosexuality used against me like it was used against Mom.

Maybe Catherine and Mom are equally the strongest person I've ever met.

"I've already forgiven you for everything." Her sobs have died down and I have finally found some more words to say. "I'm not even sure anymore whether you have anything to be forgiven for. It seems kind of ridiculous now, me forgiving you if you think about it." I pull an arm from around her so that I can wipe at my face. "It's like I'm saying that I forgive you for being raped and giving me life or that I forgive you for being emotionally and physically tortured by your parents."

"Hey!" the passion in her voice startles me and my hand flies from my face and into hers.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out immediately and jump up into a sitting position. "I'm so sorry." I look at where I hit her on the forehead and it looks a little red but not really that severe.

"It's fine." She rubs at her forehead, but her hand quickly drops and I know that whatever had her passionately screaming at me before isn't going to be put off too much longer. "I didn't do everything right, Mel."

"But you didn't do everything wrong either."

"No." She grabs onto my hands, perhaps to prevent me from hitting her again. "I did a lot of things that were wrong. I shouldn't have stayed away from you for so long. Once I had my first stable job I should have come to you and got you away from them. I knew who and what they were and I somehow talked myself into believing they could be different for you when Mom had already threatened you."

Well that is true, sort of. I probably wouldn't have complained if she came in and took me away. It was something I had dreamed of from time to time or my whole life, just whatever.

"As soon as I gathered enough courage to tell Catherine about you, she started planning an entire rescue mission but I stopped her." Her gaze shifts down to our joined hands and I don't think now would be the best time to bring up the fact that I'm starting to lose circulation in them since she's squeezing onto them so hard. "I wasn't ready to deal with any of it, yet, and if they hadn't died then I might never have…" her words stop, but I know what she was going to say.

Personally, I'd like to think that she would have come even if they hadn't died. I don't know if that's really what would have happened though. Their deaths forced us both to do some things that we probably really didn't want to do. It changed a lot of things that I thought would never be changed. I mean, I always had this plan to go to school and play sports and just make an escape from everything. I was going to change my name so that the Sidles would never exist in my world again.

Fast forward just a few years later and I'm in school, but I'm not doing any sports. I might have been good at basketball but I didn't really love the sport. It was just a tool to get me to where I thought I needed to go. My name is still Sidle and I don't see myself ever giving that up. I share the surname with my mother. It's the only thing that never separated us.

"I love you, Mom, no matter what might have happened." It's the only thing I can offer her.

She lets go of my hands and swings her legs off the bed. "Okay." She stands up and walks over to the bathroom. "I love you too." She walks through the doorway and closes and locks the bathroom door behind her. It only takes a few minutes before I can hear her sobbing through the other side of the door, and as much as I would like to run up to the door and pound my fists against it demanding entry, I know that's not the best thing to do. So I lie back down on the bed and close my eyes and, just for a moment, try to focus on something else besides our pain.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

**Chapter Five**

When Mom finally decided to leave my bathroom, I guess I could have tried to talk to her some more. I could have pushed her a little more into…well I guess into whatever it is I am doing with her. I'm not entirely sure what that is, though. Honestly, I really don't have any kind of plan whatsoever. I don't even have plans for where Mom might be staying tonight. She can stay here, but I hadn't actually thought of it until now. I'm starting to feel a little under-qualified to be doing all this, because I have no clue what it is that I'm actually supposed to be doing.

Should I try to talk Mom into going back to Catherine? Should I be trying to talk Mom into confronting Grissom about the little 'moment' that they shared? Should I just leave it up to her to decide whatever it is she does next or do I need to guide her in a certain direction?

All I know right now is that it would probably be in everyone's best interest if I kept Mom away from alcohol for a while. It may not be her direct problem, but it certainly is a contributor and I don't feel like dealing with an inebriated parent right now. Although, if she were drunk, I probably wouldn't notice it at the moment. All we're doing is sitting in the living room, in front of the television, watching some lame ass movie about vampires. I'm not even certain this movie has an actual plot.

"I'm not getting this," I say just so that Mom knows that I'm not intentionally not speaking to her. She shouldn't be ashamed of completely deteriorating emotionally in front of me. We're both going to have to be comfortable with that now, right?

"I'm not sure anyone is supposed to," Mom replies keeping her focus on the television in front of us. I don't think we've made actual eye contact since she rejoined me in my bedroom. I'm starting to feel the need for a drink, but since I'm underage and all and since my mother is here with me, I should probably refrain.

"Okay then," I jump up and my movement must startle Mom because she jumps a little. "I really don't think we should just sit around and watch a movie that no one is supposed to understand. We should go out and get some food and then go do something else."

Finally Mom looks at me. "If you want to go then go."

I'm not really liking her tone. "I want to go, but I want you to go with me."

"What's the point?"

Point? I thought my point was obvious, but I guess I need to clarify. "The point is for you to spend time with your daughter." That may not have been my main point, but I don't think telling her that she needs to eat would get her to move. Hopefully, she'll move if she thinks it's for my benefit somehow. "It's been a long time since I've spent any time with you and I'd rather do that without watching a movie with an actress who can't figure out what accent she's supposed to be using."

"Don't lie, Mel."

Is she trying to pick a fight with me? Is this even about me? "Exactly why should I lie to you about this, Mom?"

Her attention goes from me back to the television. I don't really think she cares to pay any attention to me. Maybe I should just give her some time alone. It's possible that she needs some time away from me to sort some stuff out in her head. I don't want to crowd her or anything, but I don't want to feel like I'm abandoning her either. "If you want to be left alone, you know that you can just tell me that."

"Fine." Her eyes turn to me but they're not exactly full of the love that I would like to see present in them. "I want to be left alone."

"Okay." I bow my head and rub my forehead. It's almost impossible to maintain eye contact because it probably wouldn't be fair of me to look angry or hurt after I told her she could just say she didn't want me around. I'm supposed to be acting like an adult. "I'll go out and grab something to eat." I move around the living room grabbing onto my wallet, cell phone and keys. "I'll bring you something back." By the time I make it to the front door Mom's silence has managed to hurt me just a little bit more than her words. Part of me expected her to stop me.

I open the door and step through it. Before I shut it behind me I want to tell her to be careful or to take care of herself, but I'm not too sure how well she would receive that. So instead of saying anything, I just close the door and lock it.

My phone rings while I'm walking to my car and a quick look at it tells me that it's Nikki. She probably wants to know how things are going with Mom since she's left. She probably wants to know if I'm doing okay, and right now I wouldn't exactly know how to answer her.

Despite not having all the answers right now, I pick up my phone anyway. Nikki's voice greets me and she surprises me, because instead of asking all the questions I knew would be coming she starts talking about some call she was sent out on when she got on duty. At the end of her story, about a guy she arrested for stealing cash out of a cash register at some grocery store, she tells me that she misses me and loves me and that she wants me to meet her for her dinner break.

I don't hesitate in accepting her offer, and I even consider going back to the apartment so that I can pull Mom along with me, but I don't. She said that she didn't want me with her right now, and I have to respect that. I have to be able to walk away. So, I get into my car and drive off towards the restaurant Nikki told me to meet her at.

As I approach the entrance, Nikki is standing outside waiting for me. She asks me if I want to go somewhere else because a group of paramedics are inside taking their break too. I don't need Nikki to clarify for me that one of the paramedics' name is Justine. I'm smart enough to figure this out.

It's been a really long day. I probably haven't tested my emotional limits like this in a long time, but times like this have happened more and more frequently since everyone around me started to treat me like a normal person again. They let me into their worlds in a way that actually lets me see them as human beings. They don't hide the tough parts away from me anymore because they're afraid that I'm going to freak out and hurt myself or possibly someone else. They trust me to handle everything, and I earned that trust.

I earned it by keeping honest when it came to taking my medication and by keeping my appointments with my psychologist. I earned it by being honest with everyone and telling them where I was at emotionally. I fought for my family to treat me like a normal person. I fought hard for it and did everything it was I needed to do to earn their confidence in me being able to handle myself.

They still worry about me, I know. They're not too sure what it will take to get me to go back to that mindset I was in only a few years ago. I'm not too sure what it will take either. I don't really want to find out.

So, if I go inside this restaurant and eat dinner with Nikki, and her partner, and all the paramedics that decided to show up, I have to be honest with myself and wonder if this is what will end up making it too much for me. Is this the thing that will make this really whacked out day break me?

"You love me, right?" I ask Nikki as I do my best to mold my body completely into hers while still being two distinct figures.

"That's why I'm standing out here."

"Then let's go inside."

Nikki pulls away from me so that she can look into my eyes. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

She looks at me for a long moment before she discovers whatever it is she needs to see before she leads us into the restaurant. We approach a table where a bunch of people, some I recognize, some I don't, in uniforms are sitting. Those who know me call out their greetings and ask me about school and the job I used to have. Those who don't know me just say hello, all except one of them. One woman, in this lively crowd just looks at me. She doesn't say hello and she doesn't really even meet my eyes even though I try to make contact with hers.

My eyes wash over her body, and I can't help but compare her to myself. I can't help but notice that her brown skin is a few shades darker than my own lighter brown tone that I inherited from my biological father. I can't help but notice that her body is much smaller than mine and that her upper body muscle may be a bit more obvious than my own. She's dyed her hair and while it should be much darker than it is it's not entirely offensive. Her hair is straight where mine maintains its wavy texture that was probably given to me from both of my parents. Her eyes are grey while everyone tells me that my eyes remind them of my mother's brown and somewhat tortured orbs. Her face is round and full while mine has taken the high cheek-boned look of my mother's.

We don't look very much alike. I'm even conceited enough to say that of the two of us, I'm probably the more attractive one. But this isn't a competition. This isn't supposed to be me versus her. It can't be that way, because I've already won. I'm the one that walked in with Nikki, and I'm the one that sits next to her now, and I'm the one walking out with her.

Nikki's partner introduces me to the people that I don't already know. He reaches Justine last and as he says her name to me it forces her to look at me. She doesn't look entirely happy; maybe she's nervous or worried that I'm going to do something that could very well get me arrested.

I'm a big girl now. I've grown out of my violent tendencies. "It's good to meet you," I tell her. "Since I'm usually busy with school, I don't always get a chance to meet everyone Nikki works with."

Nikki's partner leers at me and a sloppy smirk covers his face. "We wouldn't mind having you around more."

"Jose," Nikki warns.

"What?" Jose fakes a look of surprise. "Your woman's hot, Nikki."

The rest of the group at the table heartedly agrees with him. That is the rest of the table excluding most of the other women and Justine.

I reach out and pat Jose's arm. "I've missed you too, Jose." My smile is a reflection of his. "How is that wife of yours doing again? Last I remember she was five months pregnant."

His smile drops and he moves a bit away from me. "I love my wife." He says quickly under his breath.

Our little group laughs and then the waitress comes over ready to take our orders and probably ready for us to quiet down a little. We're not the only patrons here.

She takes our orders but before she gets a chance to walk away from us I see Catherine and Mr. Brown coming towards our table. They pull up some chairs and sit next to Nikki and me. "We heard you were meeting here." Catherine tells me as she leans over and kisses me on the cheek. "I figured I'd try and spend some time with you while I could."

The first thing I think is that it's good that Mom decided that she wanted to be alone and that I didn't drag her out with me. I'm not too sure that after seeing Catherine show up that Mom wouldn't think that I was trying to set her up. I mean, I haven't even thought of getting them both in the same room yet. I know that would be a bad decision, but only because I think Mom would freak out. Catherine might be able to rein everything in and not make a big emotional display. So, yeah, at first I'm a little relieved.

Then, I remember that I told Mom that I wanted to spend time with her and I remember that she didn't want the same thing. Catherine, she wanted to see me while she could, but Mom…not so much. It's not all about me though, right? It can't be all about me.

"It's good to see you," I tell Catherine. "The both of you," I add as I catch Mr. Brown's gaze.

I drape my arm over the back of Catherine's chair, feeling better that she's closer to me now. Don't get me wrong, it's great being around Nikki too but with Justine in the room it's good to have my mother around, even if she doesn't know anything about Justine.

My eyes look back around the table and I can tell that a good portion of them have no idea why I'm hanging onto one of their Crime Scene Investigators. They keep looking over at Nikki trying to gauge her reaction to me being so friendly with someone else.

The thoughts they might be thinking sends a shudder down my entire body. Catherine catches the movement and gives me a worried look. She turns towards me and her eyes travel down my body, probably looking for any damage. "Are you okay?"

I nod a couple of times. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine."

She leans further towards me and whispers in my ear, "Did you remember to take your medication?"

Did I? Let's see: I woke up and answered the door to a woman Nikki has slept with. I went back to bed and then answered my phone to hear my mother telling me she was waiting outside of my apartment. Mom came into the apartment, we talked then Catherine showed up and we talked and then I went back inside and talked some more with my mom and some more stuff happened, and now I'm here.

Yeah, I don't remember if I fit taking my medication into any of that. "Why do you ask?"

"Your hands," she looks to my hand that is draped over her chair and near her shoulder and my gaze follows hers. My hands are trembling a little bit, which is a good sign that the level of lithium in my body isn't where it probably needs to be. I guess that means that I didn't remember to take any of my doses today. "Do you have your pills with you?"

"No." I bring my hands to my lap. "Everything is at the apartment."

Nikki looks over at us and immediately notices that something isn't quite as it should be. "What's going on?"

"Do you have any of Mel's Eskalith with you?"

Nikki shakes her head and takes a good long look at my body. It doesn't escape her notice that I'm sitting on my hands and she more than likely understands what that means. "You don't have any with you?" She asks me.

"It's been a long day, Nik."

She nods. "How are you feeling?"

I shrug. "Normal enough." I haven't been off the pills long enough to alter my brain chemistry, but I have been off long enough to feel some of the effects. "I'll be fine."

Both Catherine and Nikki give me the same look that lets me know they are considering whether or not they want to accept what I've said, and whether they want to believe that I will be fine until I get a chance to take my medication again. When they both look away from me, I know that we have an uneasy understanding. I know they're going to trust my judgment even though they both want to grab me and take me to my pills.

"So, how is it you know Catherine?" Nathaniel, another police officer sitting at our table, asks me.

"She's my mother." I answer him, thankful that my attention can now safely be directed away from my lithium pills.

Nathaniel and the rest of the group that doesn't know any better, looks between Catherine and me like they don't believe the words that have just left my mouth. Catherine and I don't look much alike at all.

"I thought you were Sara's daughter." Justine speaks to me for the first time. "You look a lot like her."

I'm ready to open my mouth and start giving a short explanation to everyone when Jose holds up his hand and cuts me off. "No." He says forcefully. "We are not going to bring all that up now." His attention goes to Justine. "Just accept that what they say is the God's honest truth. Catherine and Sara are both mothers to Melinda. Work it out in your head however you need to."

Not everyone is satisfied with Jose's explanation, but that's perfectly okay with me. Not everyone needs to understand my private life. I don't think Justine particularly needs to understand it either. Just as long as everyone gets it now that my close physical proximity to Catherine has to do with a mother-daughter relationship and is not like anything they might have been thinking of before.

Eventually all the food comes out and our group has succumbed to talking about their occupations and the current cases they are working on. For the most part, I'm able to keep up with what they're talking about, but quickly lose interest. A lot of people expect me to follow the family tradition and get involved with this stuff somehow. When I was younger I was adamantly against even considering working for the city of Las Vegas in any capacity whatsoever. I wanted to stay away from the crime labs and the police stations and all of those other places. Now, I'm not as against it as I was.

I'm double majoring in pre-med and chemistry at school. I'm putting the brains I inherited from my mother—I just assume my father didn't have much to do with it—to good use and am using my intelligence in a somewhat more positive way. I mean, I'm not using it anymore to figure out a way to escape from my home and life. Instead, I'm using it every once in a while to offer a fresh perspective to a case my parents feel like they can't solve.

Last summer Mr. Grissom offered me an internship position in his labs. He wanted to sit me behind a computer and force me to go over massive amounts of data. No one pressured me into doing it, and I think there was even a part of Catherine and Mom that didn't want me to take part in any of their work stuff, but I did end up doing the internship. For the most part, I was bored out of mind. The most I did was carry information from one person to another, but it gave me a chance to do something different and to get more involved in what Nikki and my parents go through every day.

The dinner doesn't last long, since Nikki and Jose get a call from dispatch and everyone else still has some work to do. Catherine orders a meal for Mom for me, telling me it's one of Mom's favorites from this place. She reminds me to take my medicine and says that if Mom gets to be too much than I should give her a call. She still wants to do whatever she can to make things better. Then they all leave, well all of them except Justine who, I discover shift has ended. She was just joining everyone for the fun of it. She decides to wait with me for Mom's meal. The waitress promises it won't take that long and I promise her an extra tip if she can hurry it along.

"You're a lot different than I expected," Justine says to me.

I give her a weak smile. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I pictured you'd be this clueless teenager who didn't have any substance to her at all."

Should I admire her honesty or remind her that my birthday was a little while ago and I'm not a teenager anymore? "Okay."

"I asked some people about you and they always said really great things about you, but I didn't believe them."

Why is she still talking? "Okay."

"You and Nikki look like you're very close."

The change of subject lets me know what it is she's trying to get at. "We've been close for a long time."

She looks at me for a while then leans in close to me like she's ready to tell me her biggest secret. "Are you sure you're as close as you think you are?"

What is this? Is she trying to plant the seed of doubt in my head or something? Maybe next she'll ask me if I really know what Nikki does while I'm at school in class. "Nikki and me are and always have been very close. We're so close in fact, that whatever game you're trying to play here won't work. I already know about the two of you."

Her eyes widen with her surprise, but don't stay that way for very long. "But do your mothers know?"

So she's not as stupid as the beginning of this conversation led me to believe she was. I don't have a response for her, but I don't have to come up with one because I feel Nikki's hands rest on my shoulders and I see Justine's eyes feign an innocence that just doesn't exist. "If you want to act like a bitch, Justine, that's fine but don't make Melinda deal with your shit. If you have problems you can come to me."

I stand up and let Nikki take a step in front of me. I don't feel the need to argue with Justine. I don't feel the need to even be in her presence right now. I have a depressed mother waiting at home for me and if Justine wants to act like a spoiled child who got her favorite toy taken away then she can do so on her own. Whatever stamina and patience I had when I woke up this morning is now officially gone.

"Whatever it is you want to happen," I say to the still sitting paramedic, "give up on it. It's like you said, a lot of people say a lot of great things about me. They like me and they like Nikki and my mothers are very protective. So if you want to keep the friends you have at work and you want to not hate your job then leave me the hell alone." Nikki's arm goes around my waist and she pulls my back into her body. She's probably a little worried that I might lose my self-control since she probably heard the underlying stress seeping out through my words.

"Fine," Justine jumps out of her chair grabs her stuff and then walks out of the restaurant. She looked a little scared of me as she was scurrying away. I can't quite bring myself to feel bad about that just yet.

My attention goes to Nikki and she doesn't look any happier right now than I'm feeling. "I thought you got a call out?"

"Someone else was able to take care of it."

"So you noticed Justine stayed back?"

"I'm not going to leave her alone with you."

The waitress brings me my order and I hand over some money, not really caring if I'm overpaying. It's time I got me and the food back to Mom. "Do you want to talk about any of this?" I ask as I prepare to walk out of the restaurant.

Nikki leans over and places a gentle kiss right below my right ear. "Thank you," she whispers to me then pulls me into a hug.

I kiss Nikki's neck then pull away from her. "You should get back to work and I need to get back to Mom."

She nods. "Okay. I'll see you when I get back home."

She walks me to my car and reminds me to take my medicine when I get home. We exchange an 'I love you' then she goes back to her squad car where Jose is patiently waiting. Eventually, I talk myself into driving back to the apartment. I stand outside the door for almost a whole minute before I push it open, and I realize as I enter that I over-prepared myself for stepping inside. Mom's asleep on the couch, and I at this moment really don't feel the need to wake her. All I need to be concerned with in this moment is to take my pills, and right now I'm really liking the fact that the act of taking my lithium is something that is normal and simple for me.

I put Mom's food into the refrigerator and I go into my bedroom. Right now, I'm sort of feeling the need to be alone too.


	6. Chapter 6

**All Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

**Chapter 6**

When I venture out to the living room again, Mom is munching on her food and the television has been turned off. I go into the kitchen and pull out a bottle of water from the refrigerator then go sit down next to her. She continues eating and I just sip the water. We're practically professionals at the art of silence. I would start talking, but I just don't know what to say.

"How'd lunch go?" The sound of Mom's voice surprises me and I choke a little bit on my mouthful of water.

I cough a couple of times and eventually my mouth replies in a jangle of words that manage to sound something like, "Good."

"You went with Catherine." It's not so much a question coming from her as much as an all-knowing remark.

There's no point in me denying anything. "Nikki called me out and Catherine met up with us." I'd ask how she figured out I was with Catherine, but there's no point in it. I just figure it's the food that gave me away. Catherine got Mom something that she would eat and that she knew she liked. I would have just picked something out from the menu that didn't include dead flesh and not worry about any of the other details, simply because I don't know about any of the other details. Catherine knows the details and details went into the food selection, therefore giving my dining with Catherine away.

Mom lets out something from her mouth that sounds something like a disgusted snort. "You all felt the need to talk about me behind my back."

Paranoid much? "We didn't talk about you, Mom." Is not talking about her at all any better than talking about her? "We were with a group of people and it would have been inappropriate."

"So you would have talked about me if you could have?"

When did my mother turn into a five year old? "If we were going to talk about you then it would be about how worried we are." Now when did I start channeling Catherine's attitude?

"You sound exactly like Catherine." I know; it's a little scary.

"Mom," I say through a long labored sigh, "what's going on with you? No more bullshitting, okay?"

Despite my bluntness, I expect her to brush me off. I certainly didn't make it easy for her to get answers from me just those few years ago. Why should I expect her to go easy on me? People keep on telling me that she and I are so much alike.

She pushes her food away and I mimic the intent of her action by pushing myself a little bit away from her.

"I thought I was done with this." She says, and the desperation and honesty seeps through her words and straight into my understanding. Her words kind of surprise me, though, because I thought she would tell me that it was nothing and that I shouldn't worry about it. I thought she'd say it wasn't any of my business.

"You probably were kind of over it until I jumped into your life." It sounds bad, I know, but I don't mean it that way. "I mean, I've just put you through a lot."

"You've been back in my life for over three years, Mel. You can't be blamed for this."

Who said anything about blame? I don't blame myself. Maybe a few years ago I would have found a way to carry the guilt and pain, but it's not a few years ago anymore. "I'm not trying to blame myself, Mom. All I'm doing is pointing out that, well, I'm just part of the equation. In a kind of fucked up weird way, it's sorta okay for all this to be happening now with you."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

What I'm about to say proves that I've been through too many hours of therapy. "Well, what I'm trying to say is that it makes sense that all this crap is manifesting," that's a psycho-babble word I didn't think I'd be using outside of the context of explaining something about myself, and yet… "Since you don't have to worry about me as much, it's okay to focus on you. I'm okay now, and I've got all my sanity back and everything."

A faint grin appears on Mom's face and I guess I can be somewhat happy that she's found humor in my words. "Are you psychoanalyzing me?"

Maybe the grin wasn't any particular sign of humor. "I'm not really trying to, but you can at least admit that I might have a point."

Mom's sitting there and staring at me. I can't tell if she's really angry at me and I have no idea what she might be thinking about. A sudden urge to call Catherine overwhelms me, but I'm supposed to be an adult. Besides, Catherine can't take back my words or my voicing of a theory that may actually be worth less than a grain of salt and sand combined.

"You're probably right, Melinda."

"I'm what?" And when was the last time she called me Melinda?

"It started that night we were helping Nikki put together that thing for her apartment. I could feel it then. I could feel the anger, pain and hatred starting to multiply." She shakes her head a bit. "Maybe it even started before that."

Okay. So I'm a little surprised by all the verbal sharing, and just a little more surprised that Mom's thought about this so much that she can actually pinpoint the exact moment all this stuff with her started. "So if you know all this, why not do something about it?"

"Don't you already know?"

Do I? Yea, I probably do. It's a pretty basic reason actually: fear, denial, simply just not wanting to deal with any of it. "So, uh, why tell me about all this now? Not that talking is a bad thing. It's just, I didn't think with the way you were acting that you were ready."

"What does being ready have to do with anything?"

Well I certainly would have liked to be a little more ready for this conversation, but it was what I was hoping for, right? I was supposed to want to be supportive, help Mom through and fulfill a role I've never really attempted before. So, what does being ready have to do with anything?

"What is it that you need, Mom? From me, I mean?"

"How did you do it? How'd you get Mom out of your head?" Mom's head drops into her hands. "Are you just that much stronger than me, Melinda?"

The Melinda thing is sort of starting to freak me out, but I'll leave it be for now. "I don't think it can be that simple. I mean, I don't know if strength really has anything to do with it. For me, it was more live or die, and you, Catherine and Nikki weren't gonna just let me die. Besides, I'm not too sure I actually remember everything that clearly." There're some moments that I just don't remember. There're moments that I probably won't ever remember. That's just the way these things happen sometimes.

"I have dreams of her hurting you," Mom whispers into her hands and I can only hope that I misunderstand her. "I reread the letters you wrote me, and now all I can do is dream about everything you wrote."

Mom must be really good at the carrying guilt thing. "You should burn them." I don't want to sound as cold-hearted as I do, but I just can't help it right now. I may have gotten more…okay with what's happened to me, but that doesn't mean I'm wanting to talk about it all the damn time. Being okay with the abuse I've suffered doesn't mean I'm enthusiastic about it. I don't want to tour the country and speak out against abuse so that it doesn't happen to another child. It's not that I do want it to happen to another child, it's just not at that place yet, whatever place that might be.

"I can't."

She can't what? What was it I was supposed to be focusing on again? Oh yeah, I'm not supposed to be focusing on me here. Her nightmares about the letters I wrote as a child aren't really about me. At least I think that's what my psychologist would tell me. Whether I'd believe her or not is another issue entirely. "Why can't you?"

Her eyes lift and capture mine. "Because they're a part of you."

"They're also part of something we can't hold onto, Mom." She's never shown them to me. I have no idea where she keeps them and I can't really imagine Catherine just sitting idly by watching Mom read them either, so they must be somewhere kind of secret.

"But they're yours," she tells me, enunciating her words carefully. Maybe she thinks that I don't get what it is she's really trying to tell me here, but I do get it.

If she lets the letters go then she's letting go more than a few pieces of paper written in a child's scribbled attempt at the English language. My letters are kind of like Anne Frank's diary in a way, but I don't want them to become famous. There're already so many stories out there about kids and abuse, I don't feel the need to add one more.

I'll happily leave the memoir thing up to those people who really want it, because I don't need it and I certainly don't want it. "It's not me, Mom." I confess, hoping that this time she'll understand what it is I'm trying to tell her. "The child who wrote those letters doesn't exist anymore. That Melinda had to die so that I could live. I had to let her die and you need to let her die too."

Mom sighs and her silence lets me know that she thinks I'm right. She knows she can't question my logic on this, because I am the one that pretty much buried the other Melinda so that I could accept my new life. I may still carry her scars—my scarred arms are a visible testament to that—but she's not really around anymore. I don't think the same things nor do I feel the same way about things.

"I don't know what I'm doing anymore." Her words rush out in a single breath. "Everything seemed better for a while and now it's all falling apart."

"Do you still love Catherine? I mean, are you still in love with her?"

She nods but she isn't looking at me. I'm going to have to assume that her nod was sincere.

"Then what's going on with you two?" I kind of have a feeling that I already know, but Mom is going to have to explain this one to me just in case I got it all wrong.

"It doesn't feel real anymore, Mel."

She called me Mel, thank God. "Why?"

Mom's eyes meet mine. "I don't know."

"Did it feel any more real kissing Grissom?"

She shakes her head. "No." She gives me a curious look and I know it's time for me to stop asking questions, because Mom is going to start talking to me like I'm her kid again instead of a confidant. "Why doesn't me kissing Grissom bother you?"

The thought of it disgusts me, but I don't need to share that information. The disgust comes from the visual of it happening in my head. Just thinking of him…it doesn't settle right with me, but it's more about the physical aspects of it all and not the emotional. "Maybe because I understand the reason for it." I certainly don't understand her choice of people.

"I shouldn't be putting you through this." She fidgets around and I expect her to make a run for it at any moment now.

"If you didn't go through it with me, then who would you go through it with?" She's already pushed Catherine away. I can see that, hell anyone could see that at this point. I think I'm the only one right now that's being let in and Mom must have a pretty good reason for letting me be that one right now.

I resettle myself on the sofa and throw my head back on the cushions. I blink up at the ceiling a couple of times and hope that I can relax my body enough so that I don't decide to run away either. "We should go back to California." This is the hardest suggestion I've ever had to make in my life.

Mom stops breathing. "Where in California?"

I stop breathing too. "Back to the start."

"Why?"

"Because that's where all the things that are trying to get out live. You," I swallow and take a fresh breath of air, "we need to settle it there."

She's looking at me like I'm crazy and perhaps I am a little, but I really feel like this is the right thing to do. I've not wanted to step foot back there since I got out of there the last time. It hurts to even think about walking down the same streets that I walked down as a child.

I'm sure the thought of it can't be any easier on my mother. In some ways, it's probably harder on her than me, but the thought of all the pain doesn't make me want to change my mind. If anything, the thought of what we've tried to keep buried there, makes me want to go and seek it out all the more.

Maybe if we get a chance to look at it, it won't seem so powerful anymore. Plus, going back might be a way to break the final barrier that keeps Mom and me apart. We've been able to get through so much, but there's still something that sits between us that hasn't been entirely erased.

Right now is the closest we've ever come to breaking it, actually. What we're really bad at is sharing our pain with each other. We're good at apologizing and we're even becoming good at voicing our own pain at any given time, but we don't really ever want to share it. It's almost like, if we do, then somehow the other's pain will crush us.

If I were going to get all poetic about it, then I'd start making metaphors about mirrors and osmosis, but I'm not a poet. That's another thing Mom and I have in common. We've got science on the brain and leave room for much else.

Mom's looking all kinds of shades of uncomfortable right now, but it would have been stupid of me to expect any other kind of reaction. Although, I really didn't expect any kind of reaction since I just now thought of suggesting we go back to our former home. If I gave myself a chance to sit down and think about it, I'd probably be acting just like her, but I haven't thought about it. I just let my mouth open up and let the words come out as if I had this planned all along.

"I need to think about this, Mel."

"Don't. Let's just go." I urge. If she gets a chance to think about it then we're not going to leave because then I won't have the courage to. My higher brain functioning will kick back in and tell me that this might be the stupidest thing that we could ever do. "We can leave right now and explain everything to Nikki and Catherine on the way." We can't give them a chance to stop us, because I know I'm not strong enough to not let them talk me out of this.

"Mel, we can't,"

"Yes we can," I interrupt her. "We'll drive all night if we have to just so that we can stomp spit on Laura Sidle's grave in the morning." I should really just shut up. "It'll only be us and we won't have to answer to anyone else."

Mom's not a very impulsive person and for the last few years I haven't really been either. My life has been very structured and secure. It's been the way it's had to be in order for me to get better, and I am doing a lot better now so how bad can it be for me to rattle things up a little.

I jump off the couch and run to my bedroom. Mom gets up and follows me. She doesn't ask me what I'm doing because my actions are more than obvious. I'm putting clothes in a duffel bag along with my medicine and a couple of toothbrushes. It's all we'll need.

"Go on and put on your shoes and a jacket," I tell her as I push back the voice in my head that's telling me to slow down.

Mom stands across from me staring like she wants to listen to me, but also like she really doesn't know if she should. Now would be a really bad time for her to start acting like a parent right now. So I zip up the full duffel bag and swing it over my shoulder. "We can do this, Sara." Calling her Mom right now probably wouldn't be the wisest thing.

She looks at the bag over my shoulder then back at me. I've almost got her; I can tell. "I'll wait for you in the car."

I hurry past her and make sure to pick up my keys and cell phone on my way out the door. I throw the duffel bag in the backseat and by the time I reach the front, Mom is waiting at the passenger side door.

What the hell am I doing?

The doors are unlocked so she gets inside and that prompts me to get in too. I settle behind the wheel and put the key in the ignition. A part of me hopes that the car won't start, but it does. I put the car in reverse and hesitate only a moment before I put it in drive and hit the gas.

I know it's still not too late to turn back. I know that I can correct this right now, but what if this really doesn't need to be corrected?

"We'll call Catherine once we hit the state line."

So, California here we come, for better or worse.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimers are in Chapter One**

**Chapter 7**

I wanted to hand calling Catherine off to Mom, but I realized that wouldn't be entirely fair. For what I had just talked my mother into, during a supreme moment of weakness, is something Catherine deserved to get a chance to yell at me for. So, I pulled off to a gas station and pulled out my cell phone. I hit the speed dial button for Catherine's cell and it only took two rings for her to pick it up.

When she first answered she wanted to know if she could call me back because she was in the middle of something. Crime in Las Vegas was still going on and Catherine was out there trying to help curb it. I wanted to tell her that it would be okay to call me back, but not all of me had gone cuckoo in the last few hours. So, I told her that Mom and I had decided to drive out to California so that we could work a few things out.

"What things?" Catherine asks and I can tell she's doing her best to make sure that our conversation isn't being overheard on her end.

Saying I don't know exactly what things probably won't make her feel better. "I think we're going to visit Laura's grave."

"Melinda, what are you thinking?"

She's on the verge of yelling at me, I know, but fortunately for me she's probably surrounded by a lot of people so she can't lose her cool. "It might help, Catherine."

"But you're both going, alone."

"We're not alone. We're with each other."

"You know what I mean, Melinda." Okay, so I do know what she means. "Damn it," she mutters into the phone and I know she's going to have to let me go. "I have to call you back."

"Okay."

I'm ready to hang up, but Catherine's voice makes me stop. "Wait, where are you?"

I can't lie. "We're almost to the 'Welcome to California' sign."

She swears again. "You're not going to turn around?"

I shrug. "Kind of committed to this now."

"I'll call you back," she even manages to make that sound like a long streamed curse.

I hang up my phone and put it back in my pocket. Mom comes out of the convenience store with a couple of bottles of water and a sack of something. She throws one of the bottles at me and asks what Catherine had to say. I tell her that Catherine was busy and that she had to call me back.

Mom accepts my answer and gets back in the car. I take a quick look at the interstate in the direction we've come from. What I said to Catherine was the truth. I am committed to this now. I have to be.

So I get back into the car and restart the engine. Mom is flipping through the radio stations and when she can't find anything decides to flip through my case of CDs. I pull back onto the highway and a couple of minutes later we pass the sign welcoming us to California.

I take a quick look over at Mom trying to see if anything is going on with her, but she's just paying attention to the CDs she has spread out across her lap. Perhaps that's for the best. Besides, now seems like a pretty stupid time to start trying and finding reassurances from her at this point.

My phone rings in my pocket and I fidget around to pull it out. I put my earpiece in my ear and then answer it.

"Catherine just called me," Nikki's voice tells me. "Do you know what you're doing?"

"I don't really have an answer to that right now." Nikki deserves my honesty too.

"I can meet you there tomorrow." She offers.

"Give Mom and me some time?"

There's silence, but I know Nikki isn't going to deny me. "I don't know if I can hold Catherine off for that long."

I can feel Mom's eyes on me. "Give us two days."

"I don't think that's possible. You'll be lucky to have the night."

She's right. Catherine really isn't the sit by and wait type. She's probably hoping that one conversation with Nikki will have me turning this car around. "Okay then, I'll take it."

Nikki chuckles softly. "Be careful, Mel, and let me know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Nik."

"I love you, Mel."

"Love you too."

We hang up and that short little conversation with Nikki has infused me with some confidence that I thought would never appear. She trusts me to do this even if I don't know exactly what it is I'm doing, so that must mean that what I'm doing makes some type of sense.

"What'd Nikki want?" Mom asks without taking her eyes off of the CD's in front of her.

"She was just checkin' to make sure we were okay." Although, she probably wouldn't have minded if I had decided to turn the car around and go back.

Mom nods. "Catherine called her." Her eyes finally settle on me. "She moves fast."

I'm not quite sure if Mom's tone is hostile towards Catherine, but it sure doesn't sound nice. "She's worried."

"She just wants to control this like she controls everything else."

Whoa. Okay that raises a little red flag in my head. "What?"

Her eyes fall back to her lap. "Never mind."

I'm not stupid. I know there are issues that exist in my parents' relationship. I'm just not privy to them all and I doubt that Lindsey is privy to them either. Catherine and Mom have always been careful to keep their arguments away from Lindsey and me. Sometimes, Lindsey and I would overhear them fighting about work or people at work, but for the most part there just wasn't stuff for us to overhear.

Once I was well on my way to the happy land of a full recovery, Mom and Catherine were both back at work full-time. They put in their long and hard hours and handed off a lot of responsibility to me, which was actually pretty cool of them considering everything I had just put them through.

I kept up with most of the house stuff, like getting the groceries and mundane things like that. Lindsey and I shared most of the chores, and of course I was pretty much in charge of what Lindsey was doing while Mom and Catherine were off at work doing their own thing.

We had a pretty good system going that everyone seemed to be okay with. Then, of course, I had to go and change up everything again by going to school and moving in with Nikki. Mom and Catherine, at first, really didn't want me to move out because they didn't think it was such a good idea. Mostly, they didn't think I was ready to make a commitment to Nikki and I'm not too sure they felt that Nikki was ready to make that kind of commitment to me.

"You and Catherine were right about Nikki and me." Now seems as a good a time as any to start confessing things to Mom that don't exactly need confessing. We might as well start doing the soul bearing thing since I don't really know how much time we're going to have on this trip of it being just the two us.

"What?" Mom looks confused, and she should be. I didn't really give her a good segue.

"Nikki and I weren't ready to commit to each other when we moved in together." I explain. "So, you and Cath were right."

She shifts in the seat and I think she's finally given up on trying to find a CD to put in the player. It probably would have been easier on her if I had actually labeled the MP3 discs that I had burnt. "Did something happen between the two of you?" She sounds concerned.

I shrug. "Wouldn't necessarily say between us."

"Then what would you say?"

"More like between us and others." I smirk knowing that Mom will not share the humor I find in my words.

"She cheated on you?" She sounds angry about it, but I don't really expect her to remain perfectly calm. All that's happening right now is about high emotion and impulsive thinking. In order to have calm, there's first got to be some logical contemplation going on first.

"I wouldn't call it that." Things are a lot more complicated than just being able to call it that.

"Why didn't you listen to us when we tried to warn you?" Mom's suddenly calm again. She's leaning back in her seat with her hands resting on her thighs.

"I was convinced that I knew what I knew and that you both just didn't understand that." I don't really have a good reason for not listening to them. I think I just convinced myself that I had a greater knowledge about things than my parents did. It turns out that I really didn't and I can't say that I'm necessarily surprised by that.

"We've," Mom clears her throat, "Catherine and I have gone through a lot, Mel."

Yeah, I still don't know all their big secret stories about their relationship. It's not really fair for me to call them secret, though, because I didn't ask to know them. I've just accepted that Mom and Catherine come as a pair. I've never really concerned myself with how they got that way or how it is they stay that way.

For the last few years, I think I've just summed everything up to love, which is just another way of me admitting that I went for the easy way of thinking instead of the harder one. Love doesn't do it all, I know better than that. Nikki and I work hard to keep what we have going and it's not the love we have to work on.

"I had sex with someone else too, Mom. It wasn't just Nik."

She nods like she was already aware of what I just admitted to. "Catherine and I did it wrong in the beginning too." She fidgets a little and turns her gaze to her window. She looks outside and I only get a brief look at her reflection before I focus back on the road ahead of us. "We went too fast and just kept on going until it blew up in front of us."

"You mean you didn't fall in love and go to an immediate happily ever after?"

"When we started sleeping with each other, we really didn't even get along yet."

That's something I didn't know. "So when did you start getting along?"

"It was after Lindsey's father died." Yeah, I still don't know too much about what happened with that. Lindsey told me her side of things, but her viewpoint is that of a little girl that just lost her father so it lacks a few details here and there. "Him dying started to make me think of you again, so I started drinking to make the memories go away. Catherine must have realized something was wrong, because one night she followed me to a bar and stopped me from driving home."

"Intense."

Her hand rubs at her face. "That was the first night she told me that she loved me."

"Cath kind of helped saved us both, huh?" Makes me feel bad for just ditching town and probably worrying the hell out of her. I know my track record with dealing with the big emotional stuff hasn't been the greatest and now I can assume that Mom's track record isn't much better than my own.

"A few weeks after she picked me up, I told her about you." Mom turns to me and I manage to get a brief glimpse of her eyes staring right through me. "I told her everything."

My eyes are starting to tear up so I do a few rapid blinks hoping they'll go away. This is kind of an emotional talk here, and since my imagination is getting really active these days, it's giving me some real vivid visions of how hard it must have been for them both to go through everything they did. They didn't exactly have an easy road paved out for them.

In a way, I think Nikki and I had an easier beginning. We met during shitty times, that's for sure, but we at least always got along. She might have been a heroine addict and I might have been an unstable bipolar person, but we found a way to support each other without the drama of trying to figure out how we felt for each other because it was just kind of always there.

Even now, there's an easiness between Nikki and me that I'm not completely sure exists between Mom and Catherine. Maybe that's because we found each other earlier in life than Cath and Mom found each other so we just don't have to deal with as many past hurts or something. I don't know, I'm not an expert at this stuff, but it sort of makes sense. Nikki and I didn't have to find a way to fit into each other's life because we didn't have a life to speak of. Mom and Catherine had lives and they had to figure out how to mingle them together.

"So you two were cool after you confessed everything?"

"Things got better."

I don't know what else to say or what else to ask. Considering that I really didn't know any of this a few moments ago, I might need some time to actually process it all before I can talk about it intelligently.

Mom shifts around in her seat, again. She's staring out at the road ahead of us and takes a few long breaths before I hear her mutter something that sounds like, "Now, I just don't know what I'm doing."

That's certainly something I can relate to. It's probably a feeling we're both quite familiar with. "Nikki and I have some stuff to work out." Again, not a very good segue, but I know Mom is done talking about Catherine right now.

"You'll both be fine," she tells me.

I want to tell her that she and Catherine will be fine too, but something holds me back from letting the words come out. "Sitting down with you and Catherine to talk about all this before probably would have helped me out a little."

She reaches over and puts her hand on my right arm. In the past the action might have surprised me so much that I would have almost swerved off the road at the contact, but things change. I've changed. We both have. "You'll be fine." She tells me again.

My right hand drops from the wheel making her hand drop from my arm. I grab her hand in my own and take the comfort she's offering me. "I know, Mom."

She squeezes my hand a little. "Cath and I will be fine too."

A breath of relief escapes me and I'm a little more than thankful that my mother is telling me that my parents' relationship isn't going to end. Trials and tribulations are good and everything, but ultimately I do want my parents to be together forever. I just don't know how things would work with them being apart. Their relationship offers me a lot of stability, and selfishly I don't want that to go away.

"So this California thing isn't crazy, right?" She's acting a little bit more like my mother now, so I figure it's gotta be somewhat safe to ask this.

Mom starts laughing. "No," She shakes her head, "this is definitely crazy"

The smile that settles on my face matches hers. "Just wanted to make sure we're on the same page."

She lets out a soft chuckle, but her hand is still holding onto mine. We're not letting go of this small comfort. "I'm a big girl, Mel. If I didn't want to be here with you then I wouldn't be."

"Is that your way of telling me that I'm having sudden delusions of power and influence that don't exist?"

Before Mom can respond to my not so serious question, my phone rings. I pick it up, expecting that it's Catherine finally getting a chance to call me back, but am a little surprised when I hear Lindsey's voice instead. "Where are you?" she asks me, immediately sounding irritated for some reason or other.

"Have you talked to your mother?" I'm kind of hoping that Catherine hasn't decided to call Lindsey and have her try and talk me into going back to Las Vegas. It's not something she would do, but I'm not really sure how much Mom and me taking off rattled her.

"No," Lindsey answers, sounding no less irritated. "I want to go out with some friends," she tells me, "and I know Mom won't let me go out unless you come with me. So, what are you doing tonight?"

"Where is it you want to go?" Not that it really matters since I'm not in the same state anymore and therefore there is no possible way she's going out with her friends tonight.

"It's a club."

Sometimes talking to her can be like pulling teeth. "What kind of club?"

"It's not a twenty-one and up club if that's what you're wondering. I know you wouldn't let me use a fake ID."

"Your tone could be a little nicer since you're calling to ask me to do something for you."

She sighs heavily into the phone and I can imagine her eyes rolling in her complete annoyance. "Will you please go out with me tonight?"

"I can't." Her tone really didn't improve that much so I don't feel bad for leading her on. "I'm on a road trip with Sara."

"Where are you going? Why didn't you tell me?" She whines.

"It's a spontaneous trip." I take a quick peek over at my mother who is not being so inconspicuous about listening to my conversation. "We're going to California to settle some stuff."

"What stuff?" She immediately asks then takes a sharp intake of breath before asking, "Does Mom know what you're doing?" She whispers.

"I called her and told her about it."

"She angry?"

"I wouldn't say she wasn't."

"And you left me here?" She shrieks into the phone forcing me to cringe a little.

"This isn't a vacation, Lindsey." I say seriously.

"Fine. So when are you coming back?"

"Ask your mother."

"Whatever." She pauses for a moment. "So, do you think Nikki will go out with me tonight?"

A bark of laughter escapes from me surprising both Mom and me. I really didn't expect Lindsey's question. "You can call and ask her."

"Let me talk to Sara," she tells me.

"Why?"

"Just give her the phone."

"Be nice," I warn her before I unplug my headset and hand my cell phone over to my mother. She gives me a strange look before she takes it, but she puts it to her ear and tells Lindsey hello.

For the most part, there's silence on Mom's end until she starts talking to Lindsey about not taking advantage of her mother. She sounds a lot more parental when she talks to Lindsey than when she talks to me. Perhaps that's because Lindsey is a few years younger than me or perhaps it's just because she's actually been a parental figure longer to Lindsey than she has been to me.

Mom and I have only been in this parental relationship for five years, if the first two years of my life are counted. She's been a mother type to Lindsey for at least six or seven years. Lindsey got a real chance to grow up with her being around and everything. Circumstances out of Mom's and my control sort of made the me growing up around her thing not a possibility.

I can admit that sometimes I'm jealous of Lindsey for having the time with my mother that I didn't get, but I also think that Lindsey is a little jealous of the relationship I have with her mother too. Catherine and I are close and our relationship isn't as turbulent as the one she has with Lindsey.

The two of them lock heads a lot in battles of power that have been going on for a while now. Lindsey's mostly trying to assert her independence and Catherine is still trying to control the levels of that independence. I think it irks Lindsey that when I was still living with them, when I was her age, she saw Catherine give me a lot more freedoms than she's getting.

The difference that Lindsey isn't recognizing is that my freedoms were given to me so that I could get well again. I wasn't put under a lot of restrictions because I simply just couldn't be put under them. As a matter of fact, it's not really fair to compare Lindsey and my experience with our parents. We have two very different sets of circumstances and cumulative experiences.

Still, sometimes that jealousy appears in me just like it appears for Lindsey. Nikki swears to me that it's this phenomenon called 'Sibling Rivalry' that we're experiencing. I guess I'll have to take her word for it since I've never really had any siblings before. I mean sure, I thought my mom was my sister for a good portion of my life, but she wasn't around to be a sister. I've never lived with a sibling on a day to day basis before so have no reference point for what can and cannot be called sibling rivalry.

I do have other siblings besides Lindsey, I guess, but we don't really have what I would call a relationship. They email me sometimes, telling me what they're doing in their lives. The only reason I think they even bother to email me is because Robert puts them up to it. He has some kind of whacked out fantasy that one day I'm going to want to be a real part of his family.

After three years of digestible contact with him, I'm really no closer to wanting to be a part of his family or a part of his life. He may be my biological father, but I really don't feel any connection to him at all. He keeps on trying to get me to feel it, but it's just not happening, and I don't think that it is ever going to happen.

Mom hangs up the phone then passes it back over to me. I put it down in a cup holder then ask her if everything is okay. She tells me it is and doesn't bother to elaborate at all. Since I didn't bother to listen in on their conversation, I guess that means I really don't care too much what they were talking about.

We pass a road sign that lets us know we're only a couple of hundred miles away from where it is we're going. I reach out and grab back onto my mother's hand. Her palm is sweaty and I could almost swear that her hand is shaking a little.

I'd like to say something to her, something that would help calm her down a little, but I don't know what it is I could say because I can't think of anything right now that would calm me down. At least I have the distraction of having to concentrate on driving. Mom doesn't have that same luxury, so all she has to concentrate on is what we're driving towards.

"I love you, Melinda."

Oh, well I guess I could have said that to her to try and calm her down. It seems to work. "I love you too, Mom."

So, we're committed to this. I think this has just now officially been turned into mutual agreed upon road trip.

Woo Hoo.


	8. Chapter 8

**INNER PEACE**

**Chapter 8**

After driving for five hours, I finally pulled over and let Mom take over the driving. There are a little over six hundred miles between Tomales Bay, California and Las Vegas, Nevada. That's a lot of driving time between the two cities, and I couldn't do the entirety of it on my own.

Sure, the adrenaline helped out at first, but adrenaline wears off and usually when it does it can make a person feel a little lethargic. Plus, it probably doesn't help any that Mom and my spontaneity happened in the late evening instead of at the break of a fresh new day.

I've been fighting off sleep for the last hour. Mom told me that I could go ahead and sleep if I wanted, but it doesn't really feel right to just fall asleep on her. Right now, I'm trying to focus on the lines in the road and the rate at which they're passing me by. It makes me a little dizzy, but every time I focus on something else I start to fall asleep again.

I tried singing along with the disc I put into the player, but since I'm really bad at remembering any song lyrics whatsoever, I could only hum along a little while my mother laughed at me for continuing to get the lyrics wrong. She, of course, is better at memorizing lyrics than I am and I can even admit that she sings a little better than I do too.

It's not like I can't carry a tune, because I can. It's sort of a hidden talent of mine, but Mom is still better at it than me. It's sort of her hidden talent as well that I only discovered existed when I walked in on her playfully singing a song to Catherine. I don't remember what song it was, but I know it sounded good coming from my mother.

She was really embarrassed when she realized I had caught her singing. I don't know if she was more embarrassed that I had walked in on something between her and Catherine or if she was more embarrassed that she had unknowingly revealed something to me that I suspect very few people know about.

Catherine took the whole situation in stride, but also told me that I should find someplace else to be. So, I left them alone and went and hung out over at Nikki's. I never had any problems with giving them the time alone they asked for. They didn't ask for it often, but when they did I wasn't going to argue with them about it.

"We could start a band." My tired brain lets my mouth say.

"And why would we do that?" Mom asks with a half smile fixed on her face.

"Because we have talents we should share with the world?" I shouldn't be allowed to talk when I'm this tired.

"Not knowing lyrics is a talent." She's being sarcastic. I know it.

"I could take up an instrument." I've never been interested before, and I'm pretty sure I'm not interested now but for now this conversation is keeping me awake. "I always thought I'd look really sexy with a guitar. It'd be a sexy band."

Mom chuckles. "You're so tired you're starting to hallucinate."

"No, I mean it." I turn my body towards hers. "I'd look good with a guitar."

"I meant that you're hallucinating if you think I'd be in a sexy band with my daughter."

Perhaps she has a point, but still. "You're an attractive woman, Mom. You underestimate your sexy factor."

She shakes her head a little, but that half-smile is still on her face. "You should try and sleep."

"Do you not think you're attractive?" I ask despite knowing that she's right. I should try and sleep.

Her smile falls away. "Go to sleep, Mel."

Oh. I've hit on a nerve of some type. "You could play the ukulele." I bet I can get the smile back. "That way you really don't overshadow my own sexiness." I rub at my eyes. "I've never seen anyone make the ukulele look sexy. Maybe you could change that."

Mom's fighting a smile. "A ukulele? What kind of band are you trying to put together?"

"Wait, wait, I have a better idea." I say hurriedly. "I should play the piano all elegant like while you play the ukulele. It'll be a jazz band."

Mom snorts. "A jazz band? Seriously?"

My hand goes to her shoulder. "The first jazz band with a ukulele," I say excitedly. "It can be our thing."

"Mel, I've never had the desire to learn to play the ukulele."

I drop my hand from her shoulder. "Is there an instrument you have a desire to play?"

She thinks about it for a moment. "Your grandfather played the guitar." She admits softly. "Sometimes he would play for the guests at the bed and breakfast, and I would watch him. He tried to teach me how to play."

By the time I was conscious of who my grandfather was, he was pretty much dead to the world. They sold the bed and breakfast by the time I turned ten, because they couldn't keep up with the place anymore. From what I can remember, my grandfather never owned a guitar and he never sang. For all I knew, he didn't even know what music was at all. "Did you not want to learn how?"

"No," she shakes her head, "I just didn't want lessons from him."

"I didn't even know he played," I confess with a shrug of my shoulders. "But even if I did, I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want him in our band."

My phone rings and I can see from the caller ID that it's Catherine finally getting a chance to call me back. Whatever must have been going on with her work probably was pretty serious to keep her from calling me for so long.

"It's Catherine," I tell Mom as I press the talk button on my phone and bring it to my ear. "Hello?"

"You both still alive?" She sounds really tired.

"And thinking of starting a jazz band with a ukulele." I let my humor cover my tone.

"I don't feel like joking around with you right now, Melinda." Her response jumpstarts my brain back into action. It's finally starting to remember that she's probably still pissed at Mom and me for taking off, and that she's probably worried. She doesn't want to hear about me putting together a jazz band. She wants me to tell her that we're on our way back home. She wants to know that we're okay.

"We're doing fine, Catherine." I reply; all hints of humor have left my tone. "We're about two hours away from our hometown."

"Let me talk to Sara."

My eyes dart over to Mom and I have no idea whether or not I should hand over the phone. The choice is taken away from me, though, when Mom reaches over and takes the phone away from me. The action causes the car to swerve a little, but once Mom has a firm grasp on my cell phone she rights the car and we are no longer in danger of crashing.

There's a moment of silence before Mom says her hello. There's more silence before I hear Mom say, "Give Mel and me a couple of days. I know you're worried and I'm sorry for the way we left, but we need to do this, Catherine."

More silence, then, "I know, but we need to do this together."

If I didn't know better, from the one-sided conversation I'm overhearing one could assume that I wasn't the one that came up with this sudden idea for a road trip at all. Mom's making it sound like it was her idea all along.

"Hey Baby, it's okay, I promise. We're going to come back."

Baby? I don't think I've ever heard Mom call Catherine that before.

"I love you, Cath."

Mom shuts my phone and then hands it back to me. I take it from her and can't help but stare down at it. I'm almost tempted to ask what it was Catherine and she were conversing about, but a part of me really thinks that it's not any of my business.

That adrenaline that had wormed its way out of my blood vessels has wormed its way back into them. I'm wide awake now and more than a little uncomfortable with the silence that we've fallen into. I would start talking about the ukulele again, but I think I've kind of worn that topic into the ground. Plus, all I can think of at the moment is not asking Mom about her conversation with Catherine.

A little voice in the back of my head keeps whispering to me to not ask while a big booming alto is telling me to get all the details. So since I don't know what might come out of my mouth if I open it, I decide to maintain my silence. If Mom wants to say something then she can.

"Your grandmother could sing too."

Mom's voice startles me. "That's surprising." And I'm not too happy about the surprise either, because that means that I've inherited something from my grandmother.

"When I was growing up, they were very… artsy."

I raise my brow. "Is that your euphemism for neurotic?"

She chuckles a little at my question, despite the fact that I was being serious. "I guess it could be. They were different when I was younger."

"Different how?"

"They didn't hit me."

I wouldn't even know how to imagine a world in which either of my grandparents knew how to discipline without their abusive words and fists. My grandfather never really ever went at me like my grandmother did, but he'd get frustrated at times and would let loose on me. He'd also find a way to make my grandmother's abuse somehow my fault.

He'd tell me that I was acting up too much or that I wasn't doing what I was supposed to do. He'd say that I could do better, and since I was just a little girl I believed him. I believed there was something I could do that would make me better that would stop Laura from punishing me like she did.

If Laura was doing something to me then that meant it was my fault. He couldn't be told otherwise. They were a team. I knew I couldn't run to either one of them for protection against the other. The thought of even trying to run to my grandmother for anything seems really foreign. I spent most of my time trying to stay out of her way. I tried to stay out of both their ways. Since I couldn't be better, then all I wanted to be was invisible.

"I never understood why they even started," Mom continues and I make a conscious effort to concentrate on her words instead of memories of my childhood. "They always seemed so happy and just…sort of wild, but they called it being free. Eventually, their freedom kind of just changed things."

'Free' would not be the word I'd use to describe my grandparents. I often saw them acting angry and being angry. I'm sure I witnessed other emotions coming from them, but I guess I just don't remember those times as well as I remember the others. "What do you think changed for them?"

Mom shakes her head. "I honestly don't know, Mel. It's something I've never understood."

That seems like it could be kind of freaky for a kid: their parents changing like that. I mean it's like she goes to sleep with a happy family life and then wakes up with it all gone. The happiness disappears and is filled in by anger and violence, and there's no reason for the change.

See, one thing I got from my grandparents was stability. What could get me in trouble might not have been predictable, but at least I didn't have to face the changes in them that Mom did. I wouldn't want that.

"Was your Mom bipolar?" I've never asked her this before; I never really wanted to know the answer. I'm pretty sure that I don't want to know the answer now, but the way Mom is describing everything it sort of sounds like I could have inherited more from my grandmother than a decent singing voice.

It's not like I'll be surprised to figure out that Laura Sidle and I share this…thing. I'm not stupid. I lived in the same house with my grandmother for the majority of my life. I could see her doing things that didn't make sense to me. I could see the mood swings and extremity in them.

Mom's hands tighten on the steering wheel. "Probably," she nods. "I think so."

I scratch at the back of my neck trying to drive away the feeling I'm having of Laura reaching out from her grave to pat me on the back. "One time, she woke me up in the middle of the night because she wanted to make sandcastle cookies for all the B&B guests. She kept me up all night making them, and when we were done she decided we needed to go to San Francisco to find a new front door." I swallow and my hand finally drops from the back of my neck. "We didn't go back home for a week. She took us all around the state of California to find the perfect door. When we finally got back my grandfather acted like we had never even been gone."

So yeah, the signs that my grandmother was bipolar were there. I didn't recognize what it was when I was living through it, and almost pathetically I didn't see the same things in myself as I got older. Then again, I didn't know it wasn't normal, the way I felt. I saw how extreme things could be, but it's not like I really understood it.

Being removed from the whole environment, that's what really changed things for me. Laura didn't get that chance, and I'm not so sure that she wanted it. I don't think she wanted to change who she was or what she did. She was happy with it, I think. It did something for her that it could never do for me.

So when I got the chance to change, I did. I committed myself to taking the medicine that could very well have long-lasting side effects on me. I committed to the therapy and I committed to be honest to the people around me about how it was I was actually doing.

I made the effort to change, because I knew I had to. I knew that if I wanted to keep my family, and keep my sanity, and most importantly, I knew that if I didn't want to be Laura Sidle then I would have to change. I would have to do all the things she never did to get better.

"I'm sorry, Mel."

Her apology genuinely surprises me. She doesn't control heredity. I don't think anyone can control that yet. "It's not your fault, Mom." I may not have realized that a while ago, but I do realize it now.

"If I was around, I could have gotten you help sooner." She pauses for a moment then adds, "Maybe I could have helped Mom too."

"Laura never wanted help." I know I'm right about this. "She didn't want to change. She had years to try and do it and I never ever saw her try once. And as far as I go, you and Catherine were there when I needed you to be. I think that's plainly obvious because I'm still alive."

"It's not that simple."

"But it should be." I won't give up on this. It took me a long time to get to this simple understanding. Apparently Mom just hasn't gotten there yet. "We're all okay."

She swallows a couple of times and I know another argument against my simple logic is forming in her mind, but it doesn't matter what she can come up with. I reach out for her and put my hand on her thigh. "We've still got a lot of shit to get through," There's no denying that. "But we're all still okay."

Her right hand drops from the steering wheel and she covers my hand with hers. She squeezes my hand and I just now notice that my hand was shaking. Her grip steadies it and once again I'm overcome with thankfulness that I'm sitting in this car with her and that I'm not alone.

It's a long drive between Las Vegas and Tomales Bay. When it's all over it will have taken us close to ten hours just to make this trip. So that's almost ten hours she and I will have been alone in this car with nothing to do but face each other.

My cell phone might have been ringing a lot. We've got people worried about us because they don't really understand what we're doing, but they don't need to understand. I don't think they could understand just what ten hours of time between my mother and me actually means.

It's ten hours that we both probably thought we'd never get to have, simply because when we started out we were so torn up and torn apart that even the idea of two hours or one hour seemed impossible. But now, now we can take ten hours together and wish for more. We can sit together existing in a relationship I thought I'd never get a chance at.

"I think I could play the tambourine," she whispers to me. "I'd look sexy playing the tambourine."

"We could be an acoustic jazz band," I suggest, my own smile reappearing.

"An acoustic jazz band that doesn't know the lyrics to their own songs," Mom adds.

"We'll be the most famous jazz band in the world."

"Or the most pathetic."

"And that's exactly what will make us famous."

Mom and I both laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

**INNER PEACE**

**Chapter 9**

Hindsight tells me that Mom and I probably should have thought of a place to stay that wasn't my grandparents' former bed and breakfast, but we were just so determined to complete the drive I think we forgot to think of some of the details. We passed plenty of hotels on our way here, but didn't once think to stop and get a room. We were focused on getting here, and we have accomplished that; so our original plan can be called a success.

The fact that Mom and I didn't once talk about what we would do once we got into town, not so much a success. I don't think this is something I'm going to want to admit later to Catherine or Nikki, because it might show my lack of foresight. It doesn't speak volumes for Mom's foresight either.

So now we're just stuck, sitting in my little Toyota, looking out at the bed and breakfast that used to be our home. The welcome sign is mocking me and I have the childish compulsion to go outside and start kicking at it until it topples over. Perhaps if my grandparents still owned the place, then I wouldn't hesitate to destroy the welcome sign, but they're dead and destroying the sign would just be me committing vandalism on property that is probably owned by very nice people, or at least owned by people who might have me arrested for destroying their property.

"We need to find someplace else to say," Mom finally says after we've been sitting here staring at this relatively small building for a good fifteen minutes.

"I'm liking that idea." Another urge to smash one of the windows with a rock comes over and me and it's probably best I'm too tired at this point to attempt at throwing anything. At this point, if I could even make the effort I probably couldn't propel the rock hard enough to smash anything. It'd probably just fall right in front of me, making me look like a weak little child.

Mom starts up the car, but before she gets a chance to pull away from the building a woman comes out of it waving at us. She comes up to Mom's window. Mom looks at me and I give her a look letting her know that the nice thing to do would be to roll down her window and greet the woman. Under my breath, I mutter, "Glad she didn't come to my window." I might have had to pretend that I was blind and couldn't see her, and deaf so I couldn't hear her tapping.

Mom gives me a look back and I think she was even able to hear my muttered words, but she does roll down the window, but doesn't offer any form of verbal greeting. She looks a little intimidating right now, actually. I've seen this look on her before and it was while she was working. I remember it so well because the first time I saw it, it's like I actually saw my mother disappear right in front of me. She became this other person whose intents and focuses had evolved into a personality I wasn't used to seeing.

I'm still not completely used to seeing it, but at least I understand it better now. I understand that she puts on a new personality to do her job, so that the one that lies underneath it doesn't get as hurt as it possibly could while doing her day to day work stuff. I understand it because while I did my internship with her and with the rest of the forensics department, I had to put on a new personality too so that everything didn't seep into my psyche. That doesn't mean that the personality that I showed wasn't genuine, because it was. I think all it did—all it was supposed to do—was to hide away some of my more fragile parts.

I've even seen the same change take place with Catherine, and the same with Nikki. This is the first time I've seen it with Mom, though, when there's no work around to demand it. So maybe it's possible that I'm not the only one in this car right now that wants to destroy signs and break windows.

"I saw you ladies sitting out here looking lost and wondered if you need help with anything." The woman tells us as she leans down and braces herself against the top of the driver's side car door. "Did you need a place to stay? If you do then you're in luck because we just had a cancellation this morning."

"We're fine," Mom says and I hold back from informing the stranger that we're not lost at all. We just didn't plan ahead, despite the ten hours worth of time we had to do so. Although, I'll maintain that we did do a lot of positive communicating during that ten hours that might add up to be more important than the positive benefits of planning ahead.

"Are you here for the convention?" The woman asks.

"Convention?" Mom asks taking the words right out of my mouth.

The woman nods. "It's the third annual convention for LGBT parents and their children." I didn't even know such a thing existed. "The convention takes place in San Francisco but a lot of the convention goers make their way out here. Not everyone enjoys vacationing in the city. Tomales Bay has a lot to offer that the city doesn't."

"What are the chances of us finding a room somewhere else at this time?" I ask, knowing that somehow our timing is going to kick us in the ass and make us stay in this place that I'm having urges to physically destroy.

She leans further into the window, invading Mom's personal space a little. "The convention starts tomorrow, so I would say your chances aren't that great."

We could always sleep in the car. Mom and I could make it work. We're very capable women. "This is crazy," Mom mumbles and I couldn't agree more with her at this point. "How much for the room?" she asks the woman, making me perk right up.

"You're not serious." Staying here isn't an option.

Mom turns to me. "What do you suggest, Melinda? We've been on the road for the last ten hours."

"Where did you ladies come from?" the woman asks and I'm almost tempted to tell her to shut up and go away.

"Las Vegas." Mom answers, but her attention is still fully on me. She wants me to tell her that it's okay to do this.

I'm really tired right now. I think I might have been awake for a lot longer than I ever need to be because I'm going to agree to this. I'm going to say that it's okay we stay in my grandparents' former house. I might even okay it if we were put in the same room I stayed in as a child. Who knows what could happen at this point.

If we had brought a third person with us, then they could have driven us back to San Francisco and then driven all around the city until we found a room to stay in that was nowhere near this place. It's just us, though. There's no one else to drive us around while we drool out our exhaustion.

My eyes capture the woman looking over at me through Mom's window. "We'll take the room."

The woman nods and opens the driver's side door for Mom. I kick open my own door and then push myself out of the car. My legs buckle a little when I first stand, but they catch up to what's going on and quickly take my weight. There's a slight ache in my feet and legs so I do my best to stretch out a little.

I stretch out my arms, then my legs. I bounce up and down a couple of times and swing my arms around. Then, I take a few deep breaths and let my lungs fill with the fresh air. I release each breath slowly and am about to start a new round of breathing exercises when Mom calls out my name.

When I look over at her, she and the woman who talked her into this insanity are staring at me from the B&B's entrance. Mom is giving me a look, letting me know she's not amused with the show that I just put on. She's looking at me like she doesn't really believe that I needed to do all the stretching that I did. She must think that I was trying to stall.

I walk up to the both of them and the woman opens the door for us. She starts talking about her business and how much renovating they've done over the years. Then she goes on to talk about the Tomales Bay area and I think I hear the words 'coastal estuary' once or twice.

"We're not going to stay long," Mom finally interrupts the woman. I'm happy she does, because if she hadn't spoken up then I would have and I might not have been as nice about it.

"Well just in case you find yourselves in need of anything at all, just let me know." I think this woman smiles too much. I didn't know that was possible, but she makes me believe that it is.

Eventually a credit card exchanges hands and the woman shows us to our room. She might have thrown in an introduction of herself along the way, but I tuned her out when I realized that Mom was going to take care of everything.

The room we're taken to is not my old one. It's not my parent's old room either. That one is downstairs. So, I can see myself sleeping semi-comfortably in here.

"This is my old room," Mom tells me after I've fallen onto the only bed in the room. Her words are like a hot fire poker stabbing me in the ass so I jump off the bed like it just burnt through the back of my clothes.

"We don't have to stay here," I offer. "I'm good with sleeping in the car. I'll even drive around the entire state until we find someplace else to stay." My heart is in the right place, but realistically I think we both know that I'm not driving anywhere anytime soon. Massive amounts of coffee wouldn't help me out at this point.

Mom sits on the bed and since she does it, I do too. She's looking around which also makes me look around. Thus far, I've really been focused on not thinking about how this place used to look. I've been trying to not remember anything about this place, and my fatigue was helping me out with that until Mom started talking.

I don't remember this room as being hers. By the time I was aware of the space around me, Mom was already gone. My grandmother had long since thrown anything out that was Mom's or that reminded her of Mom…well except me. She didn't throw me out.

This room was just another guestroom to me. I remember the bed was pushed against the wall where that dresser is now. It had a comforter on it that was covered with pictures of sunflowers. I never really liked it much. The one on the bed now is much better. It's just plain blue. I like plain.

They've redone the floors too. When I lived here, the wood wasn't so dark. It looks like it's been refinished. It looks a lot better than it ever did before. It's not buckled in the corner by the closet door anymore. The wallpaper is gone as well. In its place is adobe colored paint.

The room has an entire different feel than it did when I was a child. There's still nothing too personal in it though. That's something I've always remembered about this room. Laura never kept anything personal in here at all. So despite all the stuff that filled it, it always seemed kind of empty.

Mom gets up then walks over to the closet. She opens the door and takes a step inside. "They didn't cover it up," she tells me like I actually know what it is she's talking about.

"What?" I get up off the bed and drag myself over to the closet so I can stand next to her.

"This." She's rubbing her hand over some markings in the wood at the corner of the closet.

The markings don't look like anything to me from where I'm standing, so I bend down to look at them. If I didn't know better then I would say that they were our initials. "Are those our initials?"

She nods then starts pulling on the floorboards. One of them comes loose to reveal a very small space underneath it. Mom bravely reaches inside the space and pulls out a picture then hands it over to me.

I take it from her without thinking and when I look down at it, my legs buckle and I fall down to the closet floor. "I never knew there were any pictures," I whisper. "I thought she destroyed everything."

"I thought one day you would find it."

"I wasn't much of an explorer." I just left everything alone so that I wouldn't get in trouble. I was always very careful with this room since my grandmother seemed to pay the most attention to me while I cleaned this one up after the guests had left.

I turn the picture over and written on the back is words that I never got a chance to hear from my mother until I was sixteen years old: 'I love you, Melinda'.

I turn the picture back around and stare at the image that is the only one that exists. It's Sara holding me as a baby and she's smiling. I never really pictured her smiling before as she held me, but this is proof that she did smile at least once before she was forced out of the house, and it's proof that I smiled back.

"Can I keep this?" I'm careful not to get any fingerprints on the picture. I don't want to smudge it up.

"It's always been yours." She moves so that she's leaning against the closet wall with me. "I wouldn't mind a copy though."

I wipe at my eyes with the back of my forearm. "We can make copies for everyone."

We sit for a while staring down at the picture of us. I want to hold onto this moment, but I'm just too tired to. My body starts to betray me and a yawn rips itself from me. Mom chuckles a bit, and then tells me to go ahead and get ready for bed.

A part of me wants to protest her suggestion, but another yawn forces its way out and any protests I can give at this point would be token at best. So I stand up and offer my hand out to Mom so that I can help her up. She clasps our hands together and her weight makes me topple over a little. I fall a little on top of her causing her to release my hand so she can put up her arms to prevent me from crushing her.

We laugh a little as I get my balance back and as she finally gets a chance to stand up. She wraps an arm around my waist to further steady me then leads me back to the bed. I kick my shoes off into a corner then go ahead and lay back.

There are no clothes for me to change into, since I didn't bother to get my duffel bag out of the car. I still don't harbor any plans to stay here for longer than necessary.

"Are you going to take off your jacket?" Mom asks me. "You might be more comfortable if you do."

"Does that mean I have to sit back up to do it?" I whine.

"Probably."

"Then it's fine." I reach into its pocket and take out my cell phone, though, since it is poking me in the side.

Mom reaches over and takes the phone from me, "I'll call Catherine to tell her we're here."

I give my grunt of approval as I close my eyes and better situate myself on the bed. There're a few quick beeps from my phone, then a moment of silence until Mom whispers, "We're here," to who I can only assume is Catherine.

"Mel is trying to sleep," she continues to whisper and if I had the energy I would turn around and tell her that it doesn't matter if she whispers or not, because we're the only two people in this room and I don't have a problem hearing what it is she's saying.

"Yeah, we're staying at my parents old B&B."

The reminder she's just given my brain gets pushed away. For me, at least right now, we're just in a room, in a place that is completely new and a little foreign to me. Never mind the picture I still hold in my hand of me and my mother that was just recovered from this particular space.

"Cath call Nikki." In my head that started out as a full sentence full of pleases and thank yous.

What feels like a hand covers my shoulder. I'll take that as Sara saying she'll communicate my request to Catherine. So, I roll over and curl up on the bed, no longer concerned with hearing any part of the conversation that is going on right next to me.

Personally, I don't even know how it is that Mom is still sitting up. She must have more stamina than I do, or maybe it's the fact that she slept throughout the day a little—was it yesterday—that she has more energy at the moment to spare. My brain tries to focus on counting the days, but soon gives up. When I wake up and get a chance to look at my cell phone it will give me all the information it is I need to know, and what it doesn't tell me Mom can.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimers Are In Chapter One**

**Chapter 10**

A long groan escapes me as my mind seeks out consciousness. A rush of aches and pain floods my brain as I force my eyes open. I lift my torso up a little so I can get a better look at my body. My legs are splayed out across the bed in a different position than my chest. One foot is buried under my mother's calf while the other is almost hanging off the edge of the bed.

A small whimper escapes my lips as I straighten up my body. I'm careful with my movement, not just because I hurt, but also because I don't want to wake up my mother. She's sleeping—in what looks like a position that is a lot more comfortable than my own was—with my cell phone placed next to her head.

I reach over for the phone so, that I can check and make sure that there isn't anyone hanging out on the other end waiting for someone to say something. I put the phone to my ear then say a soft hello. When no one responds, I say a louder hello just to make doubly sure that if I hang up I'm not going to be hanging up on anyone.

Some kind of grunt comes from the other end that startles me and I drop the phone. I hurriedly pick it back up and say hello again.

"Mel?" It's Catherine's voice.

"Good morning?" I look around for a clock to try and confirm that my 'guesstimation' of the time is correct. Finding no clock I take a look down at my phone only to see that it's been connected to Cath's phone for a little over three hours. I didn't even know that my cell phone battery could last three hours.

"What time is it?"

"That's a good question," I carefully get up off the bed, still very mindful of my mother's sleeping form. I don't know how long it took her to finally get to sleep so I don't want to be the one responsible for waking her. She deserves her sleep just like I deserved mine.

I shuffle out of the room and as I turn around from softly closing the door behind me, I almost fall over from the waves of memories that submerge my neural pathways into the reality of my past. "It wasn't a nightmare," I say into the phone.

"You had a nightmare?"

Catherine's voice startles me since I wasn't exactly expecting a response to my comment. "No," I eventually answer. "I'm just remembering that I really am staying in one of my childhood homes."

"I think we were hoping for the same dream," she admits to me and I'm surprised by her candor. Maybe she's not fully awake yet.

I give my head a couple of shakes and blink my eyes a few times to wipe away the memories. I need to make it downstairs so that I can get to my car and take my medicine. I'll also need to retrieve my phone charger since the battery is about to die. I don't plan on staying on the phone for much longer, but if my phone dies then that makes Mom and me unreachable and I know a few people who would be very unhappy with that.

"How are you doing, Mel?"

Once again, Catherine's voice startles me. I almost trip on my way down the stairs, but catch myself before I fall like an uncoordinated idiot. "I feel better since I got a chance to sleep." At least my brain feels like it's cleared up a little bit, which means I can start concentrating on Mom and me getting out of here. That's really important at this point.

"But how are you doing?" She asks again, and since my brain is more awake I know what kind of answer she's aiming to get.

I slide past the woman who led me into this place and out the door. I'm not in the mood to be assaulted by the lady's happiness. "I'm a little freaked, but…" I don't have an ending for the sentence. There isn't an ending for it. I've already told Catherine that I'm committed to this, so that's just the way it is. This isn't going to be easy.

My duffel bag is still in the backseat and it seems like Mom didn't remember to lock my car doors, which is a good thing since I forgot to grab my keys. I open the door and reach in for it. When I realize Catherine has been silent for a little longer than I expected, I take a look at my phone and realize that my phone battery has finally given up.

I put my phone in my pocket and sling my duffel bag over my shoulder. I lock the car doors and make my way back to the entrance of the B&B. As I step through the door, the woman—whose name I still don't know—approaches me and starts telling me about food and something she refers to as 'mingling time' with the other guests.

If we're still here when 'mingling time' arrives, then it's quite possible that I might actually explode. As soon as Sara wakes up, we are finding someplace else to stay. I'm not in the mood to socialize right now. I'm hardly ever in the mood to socialize with people, especially people that I don't know. Although, food does sound good.

"Let me check in with my Mom; then we can see what we'll do." I make sure to smile back so that I don't get called rude later.

"Your mother?" She asks, surprised. Hopefully she doesn't think that my mother is my…I can't even think it. "You look so much like sisters." Thank God.

"We get that a lot." My smile this time is genuine, but quickly falls away when my brain catches up to the fact that the picture my mother gave me is no longer in my possession.

Before I run back up stairs to make sure that it still exists, I say a quick goodbye to our hostess. I take the stairs two at a time and practically throw open the door in my hurry. I drop my duffel bag to the floor and make my way back over to the bed.

Mom is still sleeping so I'm still careful not to wake her, but I become less and less careful as my search turns up nothing. I check under the covers that I never bothered to use, but still can't find it. I look to the floor and get on my hands and knees to see if I dropped it in my sleep. There's nothing there either.

When I look back up, I'm met by Mom's eyes and I fall back on my butt. "What are you doing?" She asks me.

"I'm looking for the picture," I do my best to not sound panicked. "I think I might have dropped it while I was sleeping."

Mom's face disappears but, when she returns, she has the picture in hand and is offering it over to me. "When I realized how you practically dislocate your body in your sleep, I took it away so that you wouldn't crush it."

Greedily, I reach out for the picture and immediately look down at it once it's back in my possession. My heartbeat slows back down and I can feel my breathing start to regulate itself. I don't want to say that I was panicking, but maybe I might have been a little close to panicking. I just got this, and I would really hate to lose it now.

"Hey Mel," Mom's voice grabs my attention. "It's okay."

I nod a couple of times. "I know." I stand back up and walk over to my forgotten duffel bag. I bend down and pick it up then carry it back over to the bed. I unzip it and place the picture inside of it. This is a picture that I really don't want to lose.

My cell phone charger catches my eye, and I hurry to pull it out as I realize that Catherine is probably waiting for me to call her back. She may actually be the one who is panicking now. As soon as the charger and phone are plugged in, I turn back on my phone and dial Catherine's number.

She immediately picks up and I immediately start to apologize telling her that my phone died. "It's okay, Mel," she interrupts my apology.

"I'm still sorry. It's just that I got distracted because I thought I lost the picture Mom gave me." I hurry to explain. I know this is hard on Catherine too, and I don't want to make it harder on her. I think she's already shown a lot of patience just by staying in Las Vegas. Whatever Mom said to her—either earlier in the car or while I slept—must have been enough to settle Catherine down a little.

"She told me about that," I can hear the smile in her voice. "I can't wait to see it."

"I wish I would have found it earlier," I easily admit.

"I think it's best you got it now."

Maybe she's right, I don't know. If I had found it earlier, Laura probably wouldn't have let me keep it, but I would have known not to let her see me with it. I would have known not to let her find out that the picture even existed. I would have carried it with me everywhere. Eventually, I could have found a safe place for it at school—could have kept it in one of my athletic lockers or something.

"Did you call Nikki?" I'll make sure to give her a call too, but I just want to make sure they didn't forget.

"Yes, she stayed here when she got off work."

"Did she take Lindsey out?" Hopefully she didn't. Lindsey doesn't need to be spoiled like that.

"It was her choice, Mel." Catherine tells me. "Besides, it's probably good she had something else to focus on for a while. You should call her."

"I'm going to." Mom is standing next to me so I turn to her. "Did you want to continue your never ending conversation with Catherine?" I offer the phone to her and she immediately takes it. "We should have brought your cell phone." I give her some personal space and return to my duffel bag.

I pull out a couple clothing items then zip it back up. Mom keeps on peeking over at me as she talks. I take that as a hint to leave the room, although I guess I could take that as a hint to do something else, but I just don't know what that something else would be. So I gather up the clothes and walk out of the room, closing the door behind me.

Since I don't need directions on where to find anything, I make my way to the bathroom and am happy that I don't have to stand and wait for it to become available. Thus far, I haven't seen any other patrons of this former home of mine, but I know that they're around because I distinctly recall the woman saying that she only had one room left.

The bathroom has changed just as much as the rest of the house. They re-tiled the floor and repainted the walls. There's even a new bathtub and I don't recall a window being in here before. All in all, I like the changes. Although, I'm probably biased because I don't really want to see the exact same home I lived in all those few years ago. The changes make it easier for me to not associate with this place.

Quickly, I clean up and change my clothes. When I exit, I find a woman waiting outside. She looks like she's maybe a few years older than I am and she has a little girl attached to her hip. She tells the girl to go into the bathroom and that she'll be waiting out here for her, then turns back to me and I just know that she's going to start being friendly and talking to me.

"Hello," she offers me her hand, "my name is Erica."

Reluctantly, I take her offered hand and shake it gently. "I'm Melinda." At least this distraction will give Mom more time on the phone with Catherine, though I don't know what else they could talk about at this point. From the way it seemed when I woke up, they didn't stop talking to each other until they passed out.

We release our grips on one another and I let my hand drop back down to my side. "Are you here for the conference?" She asks me.

I shake my head. "Didn't even know that it was going on."

She shrugs. "Well it is only the third one. I think they're still trying to get the word out there about it."

"It's for parents though, right?"

"Yeah, but they welcome anyone with an open mind and a willingness to pay the price for the ticket."

"I'll keep that in mind in case they have a fourth annual conference." I don't see myself ever going to the conference, but I can still keep it in mind as I let it pass me by.

"Do you have any children?"

A nervous laugh escapes from me. "God, I hope not." When I realize what it is I've just said, I immediately try and start to back track. "Not that I'm against kids. Kids are great, in that not mine sort of way."

She laughs and I'm happy that I haven't offended her. "I take it you don't want to be a parent?"

I've never thought about being a parent. Nikki and I haven't even tried to ever broach the subject of parenthood. If I were to decide to be a parent then it's Nikki who I would be a parent with, but honestly the very idea of it makes me feel all kinds of nervous in all kinds of different ways.

Catherine and Mom have been pretty good parents to me over the last few years, but the only models I have for the early formative years are my grandparents and they're not very good models for anything except how to be possibly the worst kind of parents one could be. I mean, just standing in this hallway where I grew up, I can remember all the things that my grandparents did to me. I remember how it was piece by slow piece they helped form my personality and encouraged my bipolar disorder to grow inside of me.

Nikki didn't exactly have it any better than I did either. Her parents were messed up and she's felt the repercussions of that in her adult life. There's still so much she needs to get through and move past. I wouldn't even know how to talk to her about possibly becoming a parent.

Honestly, I don't even know if I could be a parent. I don't know how being bi-polar effects a situation like that. Not to mention, if I decided that I actually wanted to conceive a child. I couldn't stay on the medicine that I'm on now. I'm pretty sure that they would kill any fetus that tried to develop in my womb.

"I didn't mean to freak you out," Erica apologizes.

"No, no. You didn't freak me out." I scratch nervously at my forehead, and then shrug helplessly. "I just never thought of it before."

"My ex-girlfriend hadn't thought of it before, either." She confesses to me. "She wasn't ready for the responsibility. That's kind of how I ended up signing up for the conference. I wanted to find some help on how to be a single mother who happens to also be a lesbian."

I don't know whether I should offer her good luck or tell her I'm sorry. Usually, I don't fraternize with a lot of people who are parents. The only people I really know who have kids are my own parents. I'm not quite sure how things worked out that way, they just did.

She saves me from responding by asking me if I'm here alone. I tell her that I'm here with my mother, and then her little girl finally comes out of the bathroom and spares me from having to continue this conversation. I wish her happy times during the conference then return to the room I'm staying in at the moment.

When I walk in, I see that Mom is no longer on the phone and has changed into some different clothes. They're my clothes, and the cargo pants are a little too long on her but she doesn't look ridiculous in them. We've never shared clothes before, and doing it now is a little weird but all the clothes we have are the ones I brought with me from my apartment.

"I'm going to call Nik," I throw the clothes I just took off onto the bed and then pick up my cell phone. I dial Nikki's number and wait for her to pick up.

We exchange our pleasantries and then she asks me how I'm doing. I tell her about what happened only a few hours ago with Mom giving me the picture, and about the short conversation I had with Catherine. I ask her about her night out with Lindsey and her friends and then remind her that she doesn't have to spoil Lindsey as much as she does.

She's completely thrown when I finally get around to asking her, "Have you ever thought of having kids?"

"What?" I hear Nikki ask in my left ear as I hear Mom scream, "What!" into my right.

I ignore Mom and focus my attention on the conversation I'm trying to have with Nikki. At least during Mom's conversation with Catherine I had the decency to step out of the room. "I'm only asking because I just ran into some woman named Erica who got me thinking about kids." I explain for both Nikki's and Mom's benefit.

"Is this something you're seriously thinking about?" Nikki cautiously asks me.

"No," A sigh of relief is released from behind me. "I'm just sort of surprised that I never thought about it. I was wondering if you had."

Nikki gives my question the consideration it deserves. "I can't imagine having kids, Mel."

So I'm not alone in that. "Then we understand each other perfectly."

Nikki chuckles a little. "Don't we always?"

"Yeah, we're good at that."

"Maybe we should bring this up in a few years," Nikki offers. "Something tells me that you'd make a really good mother."

"What are you smokin'?" I take a look down at myself and try to see whatever it is that Nikki sees. I try to find the part of me that would make a good mother, and I just can't see it.

"In a few years, Mel." She drops her voice. "Trust me."

I've always trusted her. "In a few years then."

Nikki clears her throat. "So, when can the three of us come chase you and Sara down?"

"You'll have to ask Catherine. I think that issue has already been settled without me."

Nikki snorts. "Without me too."

"Would you believe me if I told you that this trip was actually my idea?"

She chuckles in response.

"Yeah, I didn't think so."

"Well, take care of whatever you need to today and call me later."

"Okay."

"Remember to take care of Sara too, Mel."

"You know I will."

"I love you and if you need me, I'll be there no matter what Catherine, or Sara, has to say about it."

That's good to know, although I knew that already. Catherine and Mom may have a lot of influence over us but ultimately they don't control us. We may go to them for advice and guidance. We may hang out at their house, especially when there is no food in ours and neither of us plan on getting any. We may even stay over in my old room from time to time when we're both too lazy to drive the short distance back to our apartment. We might even find our way to their house when we discover that food is being cooked and will be ready by the time we arrive. There actually might be a lot of reasons why we hang out at their house. But when it comes down to it, Catherine and Mom don't completely control us.

"I love you too, Nik."

We say our goodbyes and I hang up the phone. When I turn around to look at Mom, she's staring at me like she wants some kind of explanation from me. Apparently, it's not normal for me to ask about having children. "This is between Nik and me, Mom."

Normally, I don't say stuff like that to her. I don't say stuff like that to either of my parents. We've developed the kind of relationship that allows us to talk about a lot of stuff. We worked hard to be able to communicate with each other, but this isn't something I want to talk about with Mom just yet.

Nikki and I aren't really even talking about it. We just decided that we would talk about it later. I think we both know that there's no way we can be parents right now. We don't even have a pet.

Mom immediately accepts my answer. She's not going to push me about this, because hopefully she knows better than to try. "Let's take a walk outside," she says to me, "I want to show you something."

"Okay."

We leave the room and she asks me to wait while she goes to the bathroom. I prop myself up against the wall and wait. I'm doing my best to try and not think about what she is going to take me to see and am a little surprised that we haven't already jumped into the car and said our goodbyes to this place. If we stay here long enough, then I'm not going to be able to push all the memories away.

Eventually, I'm going to start talking about things that happened here when I was child, things I don't think I'm quite ready to talk about. I'm not too sure I was joking when I asked Nikki if she believed this trip was my idea, because it doesn't really feel like it was anymore. Mom has taken control of things and maybe that's for the best.

I know she told Catherine that she and I need to do this together, so that must mean she has some kind of plan for us. She's seen an opportunity with this and she's taking it. I just have to maintain my strength throughout.

Mom comes out of the bathroom and then we head downstairs. We ignore everyone else around us as we walk to the front door.

"What did you and Catherine talk about? What'd you decide?" I'd like to know what's in store for my immediate future.

"Let's not talk about that right now." Mom takes off to her left and I willingly follow along. We walk in silence and all I'm able to focus on is the sound of the ocean that surrounds us. I've missed these sounds.

"Are we staying here?" I'd at least like to know that. I want to be prepared for that.

"I think we need to." She answers, making my desire to know what she shared with Catherine while I was sleeping grow just a little bit more.

I stuff my hands in my front pockets. "Okay." Suddenly, I feel like a little kid again, walking along the beach, completely uncertain of the life that surrounds me, wishing for something maybe just a little bit different. The memories have finally started to reach the surface. This time, I can only hope that I'm better prepared to handle them.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimers in Chapter One**

**Chapter 11**

Mom takes me on a trek across the area that I'm sure I've never taken before. For all of my grandparents' faults and flaws, they didn't let me go running around this area by myself. I was always supposed to stay within their eyesight, but apparently Mom didn't have the same restrictions, or maybe the restrictions just went away as she got older.

She leads me to an area surrounded by medium-sized trees that look like they couldn't figure out how it is they wanted to grow. Branches are sticking out in all directions and they're leaning in odd directions as if they just all spontaneously agreed to defy the convention of growing uniformly. They're tangled together and Mom walks right into the tangled mess.

My objections to following her die before they are even fully formed. I don't see a point in objecting and turning around now. We've already been walking for almost an hour and chances are that this is the place that Mom was so determined to get to today.

I slip through the hanging branches and once my eyes can focus past the mess of tree limbs, I see my mother sitting on a large rock conveniently existing in the small haven that is created by the trees that surround it. The sun's rays still penetrate the space, warming it up and making it a little less scary than it looks upon entering it.

"I've never been here before," I test the sturdiness of one of the lower hanging tree branches before I lift myself up and take a seat on it. "I was never brave enough to venture out this far."

Mom picks up a small branch and starts making figures in the dirt. "This is where I found out I was pregnant with you."

Her admission almost has me falling off of the tree limb. I was expecting her to tell me she hung out here when she was a girl, and that this was her special place. "How?" I stutter out the question as I regain my balance.

"Home pregnancy tests existed back then, Mel. It wasn't the Stone Age."

Her sarcasm is not entirely welcomed. "Okay, sorry if that was a stupid question." I haven't eaten, haven't slept that long and have just taken a long hike up into some place where I don't exactly know where I am anymore. I think if I come across a little short-tempered, then my mother should understand that.

Mom rubs at her face. "It wasn't a stupid question, Mel. I'm sorry."

"Okay," I pick at the bark on the tree.

She goes back to her drawing in the dirt. "I took the test out here because I was terrified that my mother would catch me."

There's a little voice nagging at me in the back of my head and telling me that this moment is a little more important than I'm allowing it to be. Mom has taken me here for a reason. This story she's telling me is important.

"So, this is the place where I first learned that I was pregnant with you."

"That must have been tough." That's the best thing I can come up with to say? I suck.

Mom nods but doesn't look up at me. "I hid the pregnancy for three months."

I break a piece of bark apart in my hands and let out a little screech when a bug pops out and starts running up my arm. Mom looks up at me with an eyebrow raised and I give her a helpless shrug. "Sorry," I mutter. "There was a bug."

This time it's my turn to look away from her and down at the ground below me. I swing my feet back and forth a little wondering if it's my turn to start telling stories or if there's some particular question I need to ask. Honestly, and I'm not too happy about this, but I never really thought of Mom as ever actually being pregnant with me.

In my head, I've always just seen Mom getting raped and then I was born. I've not really taken time out to think of what happened in that in-between time. "So how did your parents find out about me?" I'm almost tempted to ask her how they found out about 'the fetus,' but we're not just talking about any run of the mill 'fetus'. We're talking about a living thing that Mom had inside of her that became me. We're talking about my life as it existed inside of her and how it changed things for her.

My brain has just accepted the importance of this conversation. It gets it now. I get it now. This place I'm in right now is where my mother made a decision about me. This is the place where she decided to be my mother.

"You gave me terrible morning sickness and eventually my mother figured out that I couldn't have the flu for two months."

See? I was trouble early on. "So why didn't you ever, y'know? I mean, yeah."

Mom blinks a couple of times then resettles herself on the rock. "Are you asking me why I never got an abortion?"

Well, I was trying to avoid the 'A' word altogether, but since she brought it up. "Yeah. Wouldn't it have been easier?"

"Probably yes, it would have been easier." At least she's being honest with me. "But I didn't want it to be true, Mel. In order for me to even consider that, I'd first have to realize that the pregnancy was real: that you were real."

So did she think that pregnancy magically went away? I may have never been pregnant, but I know it just doesn't appear and disappear like an allergic reaction.

"When my mother found out I was pregnant, it all became real all too fast," she whispers and I have to strain to hear her. I'd move closer to her, but I think the distance from each other is the only thing that's actually letting us have this conversation right now. "Suddenly, I really had been raped, and I really was carrying his child."

Yeah, my grandmother was good at ruining the mood for just about anything. Maybe in this case, the mood needed to be ruined; the denial needed to be ended. Pregnancy isn't the type of thing that should really be ignored. It contains multiple levels of seriousness that I don't even fully comprehend.

"She took away my choice, Mel."

"I thought she'd be signing you up for the…to do it."

Mom throws her stick off into the outskirts of our space. "She told me my pregnancy was my punishment for being a whore." That does sound like something she would say. She wasn't the sensitive type. "She said, I'd look at my child every day knowing that it was my stain on the earth, that I couldn't take away. She taunted me with the idea of…you up until you were born."

"Yeah," I clear my throat and force the words to leave my mouth, "she was a real bitch." That's an understatement since she obviously decided she was going to taint my life before I was even born.

"But she was wrong, Mel." Mom gets up and eventually decides to eliminate the space that separates us. "When you were born, I did see Robert," I'm surprised she can even say his name. I still don't want to say his name and I've actually bothered to have more than a few conversations with him. "I saw him raping me." She's just throwing out all kinds of powerful words today, isn't she? "But I never saw you as a stain."

She stands directly in front of me and places both of her hands on my knees, which are at her waist level. "You never have been a stain, and you never will be. Not to me, never to me. Laura was wrong, because when I first looked at you after you were born, the first thing I saw in you was a brown-eyed little girl who took hold of my finger and refused to let go. I saw strength in you, Mel—a strength I thought I would never have myself."

One of my hands goes on top of hers. "You had to have that strength, Mom, because if you didn't, then where did I get it from?" My grandparents didn't give it to me. Robert couldn't have given it to me; he's just not capable of that sort of thing.

Mom shakes her head. "I don't know."

My question was mostly rhetorical, so I don't know how to respond to her answer. It kind of makes me wonder if she's always had this low self-esteem and I just failed to notice, but how would I not notice a thing like that? We lived in the same house for a while. We've spent a lot of time together. At one point, I would have had to notice something like this.

Then again, this could be that point in which I recognize it. This is that point in which I recognize it. It sucks how this stuff works out for me.

I squeeze her hand. "I got it from you. You may not have seen it in yourself then, and I have no idea how you can't see it in yourself now, but you had it. You have it, and I know you do because it's part of what has kept me alive." Exactly when did I become a cheerleader?

Mom moves her hand away from mine. "It doesn't feel like it's there anymore."

"What do you mean?" I jump down from the branch and almost knock Mom over in the process. "You take me here, to this very private place. You share this with me and then you say you don't feel the strength anymore?" Maybe I should calm down a little, but damn she just can't be serious.

I mean, I haven't even shared one solitary memory with her since we've arrived here. I've been really silent and the silence didn't come about by accident. I don't want to talk about anything that happened here. I'm not sure if I could handle it, but Mom's talking. She's found the strength. She has the strength.

"Telling you about this is easier than everything else," she explains as she reshaps the distance between us.

Everything else? "What is everything else?"

"Living with it. Waking up to it every day!" She yells at me. "I don't know if I can do it anymore."

Living with it is the hard part. "Then why are you holding onto this?" I motion around me trying to point out everything around me that is part of her past.

My motions stop when her eyes capture mine. "Why are you?"

"I'm not," my voice falters a little. "I let this go."

Mom snorts in what seems like disgust. "Don't start lying now, Melinda."

Who's lying? "I did."

"Letting go and not talking about it aren't the same thing." She challenges me. "You know that."

"What do you want me to say?!" I yell at her. "What is there to say?"

"Why does that picture mean so much to you?" She doesn't yell, not like I am. She simply looks right at me and asks as if she already knows answering her will break me.

I clench my jaw shut tightly. My breath is coming heavily and I feel anger building inside of me that I haven't felt building in a long time. I try closing my eyes, but when I do I see flashes of a time I have tried to bury and burn.

"Fuck!" I scream out at the sky above me. I turn to one of the trees and take a kick at it and am reminded that my leg is not stronger than a tree trunk. The impact jars my knee and I stumble to the ground.

Mom comes up behind me then takes a seat on the ground next to me. "Why does it mean so much to you?" She asks me again.

The palms of my hands rub at my eyes, pressing hard into them. The pain distracts me from my forming tears. "They took everything from me." I finally answer her. "They always took everything."

She grabs at my wrists and tries to force me to lower my hands. I resist her at first, but eventually give in and let her force me into facing her. "Tell me," she begs me. "I want to know."

"They took you away from me." I try to wipe at my tears but her grip is still firm on my wrists. "They erased everything and told me that I made you go away because I was so bad. They said you couldn't stand having a little sister that was so ugly and stupid. I thought if I could bring you back then I could make them happy, but then I just wanted you to take me away."

I can remember my grandmother sitting me down and telling me that I had a sister once. It was the first time she told me this Sara person ever existed. She told me that 'Sara' left because she didn't want her family anymore. She never said anything about kicking Mom out. Her story was that my sister left because she couldn't stand the idea of me existing. She told me that Sara would always hate me and then told me that she would never leave me. My grandmother told me that said she would be the only one in the world to love me like I deserved, and then told me to get the rooms upstairs ready for the guests.

I was four at the time.

"That picture is the only proof I have that you didn't hate me." Laura Sidle tried so hard to make it so that my mother and I would hate each other. She tried so hard to poison us, and for a long time she was successful.

When I saw my mother for the first time after my grandparents died, a part of me did hate her. I can only wonder if Mom had a part of her that hated me too. I don't want to ask her because I don't want to know the answer. I don't want to know if Laura was as successful with her as she was with me.

Mom releases my wrists and maneuvers herself so that she's sitting next to me. "I took you here after you were born." She places a hand on my thigh. "So, you have been here before."

There's so much stuff that I want to remember from the short time I got to spend with my mother before she left. I want to have all the memories that she has so that they can ward off all the ones that Laura handed off to me. They seem so much better than what Laura planted inside of me.

"Why?"

"I wanted you to know this place." Her hand starts rubbing at my recently injured knee. "This was the only thing I could give you that didn't come from my mother first, but she managed to take it away anyway."

Of all the things that my grandparents did, I don't think they moved us out of the B&B just to spite Mom. I'm not going to go as far as to say that spiting Mom didn't have anything to do with it—I don't give them that much credit—but moving had a lot to do with the amount of work they didn't want to do to keep up with their thriving business.

A part of me has always thought that they decided to give up their business because they didn't want to be put under a microscope, and success would do that to them. They didn't want people to know what went on behind their closed doors. They needed a quiet life to torture me in and not an active one.

I take a quick look around me then focus back on my mother sitting next to me. "But you're giving it back to me, right?"

Mom squeezes my knee and I jump a little. Hopefully, I'll be able to make the hike back to civilization. "Let me look at your knee." She tells me and starts pushing up my pant leg.

"Hey, wait." I stop her movements by grabbing onto her hands. "You have to answer my question first."

Her eyes move away from my knee and capture mine. "It's our place now, Mel."

"Okay." I nod and let go of her hands. "Then fix me up, Doc."

She smiles at me then finishes pulling up my pant leg. A cold hand envelopes my kneecap and I can feel her cautiously testing it. "Does that hurt?" she asks as I suck in a good bit of air into my lungs.

I look down at my knee and can see that it's clearly swollen. "Doesn't hurt too much." I've done things to my body that have hurt worse. "I might need to get an x-ray though." I just want to make double sure that I didn't break anything, because now that my anger and adrenaline are ebbing the reality of me kicking a tree is settling in, and in a battle like that, I'm pretty sure that the tree wins every time.

"Are you serious?" She removes her hand from my knee.

"I would like not to be."

"Okay." Mom blows out a long breath then puts my arm across her shoulders and helps me stand up. I put a little weight on my leg and am happy that it doesn't hurt too much.

Mom leads us out of the thick cover of the trees and back onto the dirt path that led us here. I lean on her for as much support as she can offer. "I do remember coming up this path once." This is the first memory I'm going to share with her about this place. Since she's shared so much with me, it's only fair I pick up my end of things. "It was after we had already moved out."

"What were you doing?"

I smile at her and can't hold in the small chuckle that escapes me. "Discovering that I was gay."

Mom stops walking. "What?"

This is actually one of the better memories that I'm sharing with her. It's about time I shared something with her that doesn't include torture and unhappiness. "I went hiking with a couple of friends. I separated from the group with a friend and as we were wandering around, she kissed me."

"What did you do?"

"Well," I laugh, "first I kissed her back and then I freaked out and ran away." Mom laughs with me. "I wouldn't call it one of my smoother romantic moments."

"How old were you?"

"I was twelve."

We start walking again. "So, you figured out you were gay at twelve?"

"Not so much. I just figured out that it didn't completely suck when my friend kissed me." Mom carefully helps me maneuver down a small incline. "Figuring out the whole gay thing didn't come until about a year later."

Briefly, I wish we had taken some kind of golf cart up the path so that I wouldn't have to do the entire walk back. "It seems like it was easier for you," Mom's voice interrupts my wishing.

"How'd it happen for you?"

"I accepted it after you were born."

"Yeah," I smile. "I can see how that would make you gay."

Mom doesn't laugh at my comment so I keep my mouth shut. "I accepted a lot of things about my life after you were born, Mel."

"I've been told having kids changes things."

"A lot did change for me."

This is actually kind of depressing, because I know that my birth wasn't exactly the happy, celebrated time that other births have been known to be. My birth was hard on my mother, largely in part because of the circumstances of my conception and my grandparents' negative attitude. Just thinking about all that makes me a little happy that I don't remember anything from when I was born. There was a lot of stuff going on that I just kind of ended up sleeping through, since I was a baby and all.

"The things that changed, Mel, they needed to."

"I'll take your word for it." I can't argue with her about this since I really wasn't aware of things that were going on at the time.

"I regret a lot that happened, but I don't regret having you."

"Yeah," I respond through a sigh. "I wish things could have been a little different, but I don't regret having you either." Sure, I didn't give birth to her—the idea of it just seems weird to me—but there was a point where we chose to keep each other. I'm not quite sure when it happened exactly; I just know that it did. We kind of just chose to accept each other and our relationship.

"Okay." I can tell there's more she wants to say, but am thankful that she doesn't say it. If I hadn't decided to go to battle with a tree, then maybe I could have kept this whole caring and sharing thing going on a little longer, but I did decide to stupidly attack a tree. So, I just don't have the energy to take this conversation any further.

When we get to the hospital and the doctors have me pumped with painkillers, then perhaps we can continue this conversation. Mom will probably be able to get more out of me than she can in my current state. I'll tell her everything and then conveniently forget that I said anything at all.

"You're going to call Nikki and Catherine and tell them what you did to yourself." Mom says as we carefully go down another sharp incline.

"I'm injured," I reply. "You should do it."

"You realize we haven't even been alone for a full day and already you're going to the hospital."

I see how my knee injury might not instill the level of confidence from Catherine and Nikki that we were originally going for. "Can't we just tell them what happened when they come out here?" That way we can downplay this as not a big deal and say that it sort of happened and isn't serious.

"Who said they're coming out here?"

I just assumed that everyone was jumping in a car to come to our rescue. "They're not?" What kind of conversation did Mom have with Catherine? I didn't think a pack of wild wolves would keep Catherine away from us at this point.

"No. They are. I was just wondering who told you." Mom grins up at me and I'm not so sure I'm enjoying her attempt at being humorous.

"Funny," I reply sarcastically. "So that means you're calling Catherine about my knee right?"

Mom shakes her head. "No."

Well, then we go with my plan and wait until everyone is here to share the news. I don't want to cause unnecessary worry, and I don't quite want to admit that I attacked a tree either. I can see a lecture coming from Catherine about that, and a joke about my intelligence coming from Lindsey.

I stop walking for just a moment when I see that we're actually within view of the Bed and Breakfast we came from, and grab onto Mom. "Thanks for taking me out there." I motion my head in the direction we've just come from. "I understand how important that was." I'm even beginning to understand why Mom thinks it's so important we continue to stay at the small B&B too.

"You deserve to know what happened. I at least owe you that."

"No," I shake my head and grab onto Mom's hand. "You don't owe me anything, not really. Everything that needed to be settled between us already has been, so all this is just extras."

"Really?"

I smile at her. "Of course," I start walking again and since Mom's acting as my crutch she starts walking with me. "Now, if you make me call Catherine, then the scales are completely uneven again."

"You're calling her."

"Fine." We're still even though. That's not going to change. I don't see how it could change. We worked hard for it, and maybe it's time I start doing a better job of showing Mom that I don't hold the past against her anymore. It probably would be a good idea that I try a little harder in understanding the parts of her that I've glazed over the past couple of years.


	12. Chapter 12

**INNER PEACE**

**Disclaimers in Previous Chapters**

**Chapter 12**

The fact that Mom and I stopped to get food before we went to the hospital should speak volumes about the severity of my injury. My knee did hurt, but my hunger was hurting me more, and since I could still walk, I figured that my hunger was more important. I talked Mom into agreeing with me by telling her that I hadn't taken my pills yet and needed food to do so. I even suggested we stop at a nice little restaurant instead of getting fast food, the options being greater for us vegetarians.

She went along with me, but I'm sure that's only because she was probably pretty hungry herself and my knee really didn't look too bad. The only reason we probably are even going to the hospital is because it's the responsible thing to do. So, when this story gets told to Catherine, she won't be able to accuse us of not taking responsible action. She can just focus on yelling about knowing that something bad was going to happen.

Mom still said that I should be the one to call Catherine and let her know all that was going on, but I did the independent thinking thing and decided that Nikki should be my first phone call. When she picks up the phone, the first thing she says to me is, "I'm driving a car while your stepsister and stepmother yell at each other about appropriate behavior with boys. So I love you and your family, but next time you run away, I'm taking a plane to come get you."

"So you finally left?"

"Catherine insisted. She said she felt like something was wrong."

Uh-oh. "Nothing's wrong." Unfortunately my voice squeaks a little, and I can't help but take a peek down at my knee.

"What are you and Sara doing now?" She must have noticed the squeak. She's just not outright asking me if something is wrong; probably because she doesn't want to freak Catherine out even more.

"We're eating."

"And then what are you doing?"

I groan into the phone knowing that I can't get away with not telling her. She's in a car with Catherine and Lindsey doing a ten hour drive just because she loves me. Lying at this point seems pretty pointless. "We're going to the hospital because I kicked a tree."

"Okay." She pauses for a moment and I can just imagine her taking a look over at Catherine and deciding whether or not she wants to inform my already highly agitated stepmother that I need to go to the hospital for x-rays. "We'll see you when we get there." She's not telling, and I'm sure that somehow I'm going to be blamed for that later.

"I'm sure I'm fine. I just want to make sure all the parts are in the right place, do the responsible thing and all." I understand why she's not telling; there's no point in it really. All it might accomplish is us finding out if Catherine can turn up her worry notch just a little more. She already got them in the car, probably earlier than expected, because she felt like something was wrong.

We're going to have to discuss Catherine's sixth sense later. I'm not entirely comfortable with not being able to hide things because someone else has a 'feeling' about what it is I might have done or am doing.

"Okay. We'll be there later tonight." She hangs up without giving me a chance to say goodbye and I think it's fair to say that she's starting to feel the stress that Sara and I have caused as well. I wish there was some way that I didn't have to involve Nikki in any of this.

Wasn't it just yesterday that I talked to her about us finally focusing on her? Didn't I make promises about helping her through her problems and taking on responsibility?

"What's wrong?" Mom returns from the bathroom and slides back into her seat across from me.

"I feel like a piece of shit." I can't even give Nikki a day of offering her my attention for once. My mother crashes into our apartment and then everything ends up being about me and my family again and our conjoined problems.

"Is your knee hurting you?" Mom looks down at my legs.

I have to go to the hospital and dump that on Nikki to deal with too, while she's sitting in the car with Catherine and Lindsey going at each other again for something that is ultimately pretty trivial. "No," I mumble as I drop my head to the table. Luckily, the waiter cleared our plates from the table a few moments ago.

"You called Catherine?"

Great, now I also have to admit that I didn't call Catherine and that I didn't even talk to her at all. "I called Nikki and told her what was going on," I mumble into the table. "She didn't tell Catherine because they're on their way here now because Catherine got a 'bad feeling'."

"I didn't think she could wait two days." Mom doesn't sound particularly happy about the news, but that's not surprising. What is surprising is that she understood what I mumbled into the table.

I lift my head and brush my hair from my face. When my eyes focus in on Mom, I see her sitting back in her chair with her arms crossed in front of her and her mouth is all twisted up with her unhappiness. The urge to remind her that this conversation isn't supposed to be about the agreement she made with Catherine but about me and Nikki overwhelms me, but my brain recognizes its selfishness and I remain silent.

A part of me wants to defend Catherine's actions. It's easy to jump to her defense since her worry is probably a driving force for her, but at the same time, I don't know what Catherine and Mom talked about while I was sleeping. I don't know what kind of deal they struck up that smoothed out all their rough edges. So, defending Catherine would mean that I support her possibly breaking agreements.

I'd rather not sit here with Mom and get angry about the current situation either. I'm okay with just sort of feeling like a piece of shit right now. There's no need for me to add onto that.

"Nikki grew up not that far from the bay." It's a change of subject, and a selfish one at that, but I can't defend Catherine and I can't defend my mother's anger; I should at least take a shot at defending Nikki. "Her father was some hotshot real estate guy and her mom was an accountant, I think."

Mom's looking at me like she wants to tell me to shut up. I'm not going to though. My silence won't do anything for either of us.

"She grew up in a big house with lots of things that were probably supposed to make up for the sexual abuse her father put her through and that her mother dutifully ignored." Mom's arms uncross and she sets them on the table. "Nikki got on the drugs so that she could block the stuff out that happened to her, but she couldn't bring herself to leave because she knew if she did, then her father would go after her younger sister."

"I um," Mom clears her throat. "I didn't know Nikki had a younger sister."

I nod. "Her sister ran away from home when Nikki was eighteen. She hasn't heard from her since."

"Why didn't either of you say something?" Mom reaches out and cups her hand around my own. "Catherine and I could have done something."

"What's there to say?" I pull my hand away. "A teenage girl ran away from home and faded away as if she had never existed in the first place."

"But…"

"No," I forcefully interrupt her. "Nikki's parents looked for her. They've filed their police report and Abigail made the Missing Persons lists. Nikki crawled through most of California trying to track her down. I even tried helping out once, but sometimes people just don't get found, Mom."

"I'm sorry," Mom places her hands in her lap.

"We ran away last night. We might have let Catherine know what was going on, but we still ran away. I still left without telling Nikki goodbye first. So, forgive me for not wanting to pay a whole lot of attention to you needing to be angry at Catherine right now, because I feel like a piece of shit for doing something to Nikki, and continuing to do things to Nikki, that I'm really wishing I could take back right about now."

"Mel." Mom reaches out for me again, but I'm intent on not gaining any physical contact.

"I fucked up," I whisper then stand up. "Are we still going to the hospital?"

Mom looks up at me then gets up slowly. "I'll meet you outside."

I nod then leave Mom to pay the bill. I sit down on one of the benches in front of the restaurant. Hopefully, Mom understands that I wasn't trying to make that little thing inside about me. I just want her to think about something besides her and Catherine a little. Nikki is going through this too, and yeah okay, that's probably mostly my fault, but at least Mom should recognize that what we're doing extends beyond us.

A few minutes later, Mom exits the restaurant and comes to sit down next to me. She tries to put her arm around my waist, but I push away from her. She follows my movement and somehow I end up in her grasp, despite my trying not to.

"Don't punish yourself," she tells me. "Nikki's not going to."

"Maybe that's why I need to do it myself." Now that she's got her arm wrapped around me, I don't feel the need to fight it anymore.

"She wouldn't want that either."

I lean further into her. "So is this genetic?"

"What?" She really doesn't know what I'm asking.

"The need to punish yourself," my hand grabs onto her waist so that she can't pull away from me. "Is it genetic?"

Mom's body tenses for a moment then relaxes again. "Seems like it."

"Is that why we really came here, to just punish ourselves?" Maybe in some twisted way, some part of me had that hidden agenda. It just wanted to twist that little dagger of pain that sits inside of me in further just to remind me that it still exists.

Mom shakes her head. "I don't think so."

The thought of the picture Mom gave me invades my memory. She looked younger in the picture, but not too much so. I was a small baby; I always thought I would have been bigger considering how tall I am now.

"Melinda Sidle?" I hear a voice call out to me and then quickly look around trying to spot the body that belongs to the voice. My eyes land on a person I thought I would never see again in my lifetime. I guess that's another downside of coming back here; people I used to know are still here.

"Avery," I stand up to greet him, being extra careful to not show the pain my knee causes me. "It's been a while."

"I thought you'd been killed." He steps up in front of me and play-punches me on the shoulder.

Mom stands up and takes her place next to me. Avery turns his attention to her and runs his eyes down her body. Once he's finished, I smack him on the head. "Show some manners."

He laughs as he rubs at his head. "You haven't changed," he tells me with so much confidence that I look down at my body to make sure that he isn't right. I have to remind myself that he doesn't really know me and that he never really did know me.

"What's the point in that?" There's no need to share with him that I have actually changed.

He nods a couple of times then stuffs his hands deep into his front pockets. "Did you get a chance to hear about what happened to Bri?"

I left here and never thought of looking back. I didn't care about who I left behind, didn't even think about Nikki. Sara came and picked me up with Catherine at her side, and I went away from everything, not concerned with who or what might be affected by my sudden disappearance. I thought I'd just leave everything here and nothing would be able to walk out with me.

"I haven't been around, Av." There's no reason to add that I haven't wanted to be around, and that I felt no reason to be around. I wouldn't want to imply that I didn't care about the people I left behind. Some part of me must care. I may not be able to find that part now, but it has to exist. It'd make me a better person, probably, if it did exist.

Avery gives a small nod as he drops his gaze to the ground. "That's why so many of us thought you were just dead."

"So, Bri?" He doesn't really need to tell me what happened to her. I can already guess. "She died, right?"

Mom puts a hand on my back and I do my best to not jump at the contact. Standing here, with Avery in front of me acting like his normal anxious self, talking about how some people we know have fallen away to that mist of death that we all seemed to fear, yet seemed to be actively seeking, makes me feel like the last few years haven't happened to me at all.

The fact that Mom is standing next to me now, reminds me that the years have happened, but a look at Avery reminds me that the years just didn't happen to me. They happened to him too. I can see it in the gaunt look in his eyes and the lack of fat on his bones. I can see the extra years of torture in his dark brown eyes, and suddenly I really don't want to be here anymore.

When Nikki gets here, all I want to do is jump in the car with her and drive away from this place. We can leave Catherine, Mom and Lindsey to deal with whatever it is left to be dealt with. She and I can drive to someplace else where there aren't any memories that can tear us both down.

Avery looks up at me and removes one of his hands from his pockets. It's balled in a fist and in that I can see the pain that he doesn't want to express to me. "She overdosed."

He doesn't need to add that he's the one that gave her her last and final high. I remember that he always gave his cousin the drugs because he didn't always trust her to do it right on her own. It's messed up logic, I know, but it's logic that I learned to understand. "Shit, man. That sucks."

"You think you can tell Nikki about it?" He asks me. "I haven't been able to find out what happened to her."

"She's with me, Av." I tell him, hoping that he understands that means that Nikki is safe. She's not fallen back into the world that he can't get out of even though it's killed a member of his family. "I'll let her know."

He nods a couple of times, then starts looking around frantically like he has someplace important to be. I understand that he just wants to get away from me. "Are you staying someplace?" I ask, more concerned about him now than I ever was before.

Part of me blamed him for Nikki's addiction. Well, that's not exactly true. A lot of me blamed him for Nikki's continued addiction. He supplied Nikki with the heroine she put in her veins, and more times than I can count, I imagined putting a gun to his head. The fact he was just as messed up as Nikki didn't often register in my brain. Nor did the fact that he and Nikki grew up together register. I pretended that Nikki and he weren't best friends and pretended that her occasional sexual relationship with Bri simply didn't exist.

Perhaps that was easier for me. Maybe I needed to blame everyone else for what she did to herself so that I could make it easier on me as I tried to help her.

"My parents let me move back in," he tells me as he takes a quick look at Mom. "Doesn't seem like you're out on the streets, either."

My eyes, for the first time since Avery approached us, meet my mother's. She's been quiet, although I really wouldn't know what she would say in front of Avery. He's not offering to sell me drugs and I'm not offering to buy them. All we have between us is a lot of history that I haven't felt the need to talk about with her, and I can't guarantee that I'll feel the need to talk about it with her now.

"I've always been resourceful, Avery. You understand that." I managed to help Nikki off the drugs and managed to keep her alive. I had to be a lot more than resourceful to accomplish that. I'm surprised that we're both alive now to tell the tale of it.

Both of his hands are pushed down into his pockets again. He's starting to shake a little and it's easy for me to tell that he's not gotten a fix in a while. Looking at him, like this after all these years, still on the drugs and still as messed up as he ever was before, it kind of makes me want to hit him. I want to beat this person out of him, and beat him some more for leaving telling Nikki about Bri to me. I want to beat him for even being here while I am and for making me remember something I thought I could just forget.

"Y-you," he stammers, "got some money?"

If I had never met an addict, and if I had never experienced this before, maybe I'd be surprised by his question. I do know him, though. I know what his addiction can make him want to do and ask things that perhaps the 'normal' Avery that I've never gotten the chance to meet would never think of asking or doing. Nikki swears to me that at one time he was a great kid. She swears that there's a decent human being under the filth I've been exposed to.

I haven't seen the person she has, but I don't share that with her. I just tell her that there probably is a decent guy underneath the addict that I know, and I say that hopefully one day I will see it. She sometimes reminds me that she was a lot like Avery, and I remind her that I haven't forgotten that either.

"Have I ever given you money, Av?"

He chuckles as he takes a step away from me. His hands come out of his pockets and there's a knife in his right hand. "You were always kind of a bitch, Mel."

Mom tries to move in front of me, but I don't let her. "Are you going to rob me, Av?" Despite the real fear I'm feeling right now, I let a smile creep out of me. "Is that really how you want to do this?"

Again Mom tries to move in front of me and again I stop her. If she were to try and take over right now, I'm pretty sure Avery would stab her. I've seen him do it before, so I don't think he's not capable of it.

"Is this the story you want me to tell Nikki?" He doesn't like me. I think he sort of resents me for not trying to help him and for taking Nikki away. All I can hope for now is that he still does care for Nikki. I wouldn't be putting down bets any time soon, though.

He puts his knife back in his pocket. "Just give me some money, Mel."

Mom's hand goes around my arm, and she's squeezing the hell out of it. I'm not sure what it is she wants me to do. I'm not even sure what it is I should do. I try to think of what Nikki would want me to do. I'd like to do something she'd do for Avery. So, I reach into my front pocket and pull out my wallet. Mom's grip tightens even more on my arm, but I ignore her.

All I have on me is forty dollars. I hand it all over to Avery. "Nikki wouldn't want to see you like this, Avery." But for some reason, she'd sympathize with the pain he was going through. I put my wallet back in my pocket. "I don't care if I ever see you again, Av, but if I do and you pull a knife on me again, I'll kill you."

He laughs as he stuffs the money I've given him into his pocket with the knife. "You haven't changed." He backs away from me. "Tell Nikki I miss her."

As he runs away from us, I turn my attention to Mom. She doesn't look entirely happy right now, but she didn't look entirely happy before either. "You gonna yell at me?" I ask, hoping that she'll just accept what's happened.

"I'm sorry about your friend."

I shake my head. "Bri wasn't my friend." I didn't like Bri anymore than I liked Avery. I'm sure that some part of me is saddened by the news of her death, just not the part of me that is awake and conscious right now.

The death-grip Mom has on my arm goes away. "Are you still going to the hospital?"

"What?" I'm confused. Shouldn't she be asking all kinds of questions and lecturing me about giving money away to support someone else's drug habit? Shouldn't things be happening a little differently?

"You still need to get your knee checked."

"Sure," I draw out the word unsure if it's the correct one to use now.

Mom nods then turns in the direction of my parked car. She starts walking away from me, and I can't find the strength to hobble on behind her. She must realize that I'm not keeping up, because she turns back to me with this look on her face that lets me know, finally, that she's not completely okay with what has just happened. "Do you need some help?" she asks.

I shake my head and do my best to start walking as normally as I can. When I get to her, I reach out and put my arm around her shoulders. I don't say anything to her; I don't think I really need to say anything right now. We make it to my car and then sit in silence the entire way to the hospital.


	13. Chapter 13

**INNER PEACE**

**Chapter 13**

My knee isn't broken, but I suspected that was the case anyway. The doctor didn't have anything to tell me that I didn't already know. He warned me about controlling my temper and I held back from telling him to shut up about things he didn't know and probably couldn't understand.

Mom stayed in the waiting room. We separated right when we walked in the front doors of the emergency room. She took a seat near the television and I walked up to the counter to take care of all the paperwork that is involved in getting medical treatment.

I hobble my way down the maze of hallways to get back to the waiting room of the emergency room and Mom is no longer sitting where I left her. So, I make my way outside and see her leaning against the building talking on the phone. She doesn't look particularly mad right now, so that probably means that she's not talking to Catherine.

She hangs up the phone then turns to face me. Her eyes roam over my body and focuses on the black brace that is now covering my knee. "You didn't break anything?"

"I wouldn't say that," I try to smile, not completely wanting to pick right back up where we left off with all the tension. "I'm pretty sure my pride broke a little."

The answering laugh Mom gives is so weak, that I'm mostly ashamed to even call it a laugh. It was more of an awkward sounding grunt. "Catherine is only a few hours away."

So, she was talking to Catherine? "Nikki probably is speeding just so she can get out of being in the same car with Cath and Linds."

Once again, my try at humor elicits a response that signals my humor isn't really that humorous. Mom shrugs her shoulders and turns away from me.

I walk up to her and take a spot on the wall next to her. "What's wrong?" I don't really want to ask it, but the doctor gave me some painkillers so, perhaps, they might help kill some of the pain that this conversation is going to cause me.

Mom crosses her arms in front of her and then inhales a lungful of air. Her actions make me want to take away the question I've let be vocalized. I've decided that I don't want to hear what's wrong. I don't want to have anymore conversations today that include anything about the past, the future, or even our little messed up present.

What I want right now is some blessed silence. I've got enough loudness going on in my head right now that I'm trying to keep at bay. There's no need for me to add anything to it, and I'm sure Mom has got to be feeling the same way. I'm sure there's so much stuff going on with her now that a little extended silence between us would be for the best right now, even if it is stuffed full of this unpleasantly familiar tension.

"How did you meet Nikki?" Mom asks me through her exhale.

"It was at a party." That wasn't so hard.

"Was she using at the time?"

She's going to make this hard. "Yes."

"Then why did you get involved with her?"

Is she accusing me of something? Her voice is sounding very accusatory right now? Is this supposed to be leading into some kind of lecture? I hope she's thought this through. She's had time to decide what she's going to say. I've been in that hospital room waiting for this stupid brace for a least two hours. "She was more than just the drugs."

"It wasn't safe." Her arms fall uselessly to her sides from their previously tight position. "She wasn't safe."

"Yeah?" I respond angrily. "Well, my life wasn't so safe then."

Mom exhales another long breath. "I'm sorry."

If she hadn't made me so angry and if I wasn't already on edge from everything that has happened then maybe that more rational me would accept her apology, but she's not dealing with the more rational me right now. She's dealing with the person who is feeling a little unsettled and a lot insecure. "By your logic, you're saying that if you had met Catherine when she was using then you would have just walked away from her. I don't think I can buy that one."

Mom snorts. "She's the one that would have walked away from me."

"Yeah, well," I don't really have a decent response for her, "not everyone meets under ideal circumstances. You make choices and just hope that the consequences don't completely fuck you over."

"You shouldn't have had to make those choices."

Mom's voice is so soft; I'm almost able to convince myself that what she said didn't sound like she's questioning my decisions from when I was fifteen years old. I've already lived with the consequences of what happened back then. "I refuse to have an argument about the past-tense."

This time Mom's laugh is more recognizable, but still lacks most of the humor of a truly genuine, heartfelt expression of joy. "You sound so much like Catherine. How is that possible?"

She's starting to sound about as off-kilter as I'm feeling. "What is it you want to fight about, Mom? I'm not up to fighting about multiple things at once right now."

Mom slides down the wall to the ground. She drops her face into her hands and I'm slightly afraid that somehow I've managed to break her. This is not a normal interaction for us at all. "I should have been there, Mel."

I slide down the wall just so I can be on a more even level with her. I may not be following this argument very well, but I'm not going to walk away from it. We're going to play this out even if I don't know what it is she's trying to play out with me. "Been where?"

"It shouldn't have been like that, Mel. It shouldn't have been like that for you. You should never have been around anyone like Avery."

This conversation is starting to make a little bit of sense. This isn't about me. It's about her, with me involved in a major way. "I'm not going to argue about the past-tense." Even though that's what I tried to do over and over again when Mom and I first hooked up after my grandparents' accident. I wanted to argue about all the times she wasn't there for me and all the times she let me down. It was important to me for her to know exactly how much I thought she screwed up.

I'm pretty sure that I got my point across, but it didn't exactly make me feel better. I could see that Mom was feeling worse and that I was feeling…not better.

"Not talking about it doesn't make it go away. It doesn't mean I'm any less responsible for it."

I can't necessarily argue with her logic. I'm not completely with her on the responsibility aspect of things, but I'm pretty sure I'm not going to win an argument with her about that right now. She's into blaming herself for stuff right now, and I'm not powerful enough to make her stop. I don't think anyone but her is powerful enough to do that. I can only assume that Catherine's already tried.

"Were you just on the phone with Cath?"

Mom looks confused by my complete change of subject and I get a little sadistic thrill from her reaction. It's about time she gets the understanding of how it feels to be on the rollercoaster ride part of the conversation instead of in the lead of it. I'm taking back the reins, since Mom just managed to try and pick an argument with me over her guilt. I'm not feeling that right now, not after everything that has already happened today.

"I needed her help."

"Help with what?"

Mom finally removes her face from her hands, and I can see that she's crying. I didn't mean to make her cry, but maybe her tears really aren't about me either. "I needed her to tell me what to say to you."

Maybe the painkillers are making me hallucinate and I passed out in the hospital room, so none of this conversation is actually happening. "What to say to me about what?"

"Avery."

"What did she say?"

Mom chuckles softly. "She said to trust myself. Obviously, that hasn't worked."

Wait, if she talked to Catherine about what just happened with Avery then that means Nikki might know about it too. Fuck. "Does Nikki know?" My voice drops a couple of octaves and Mom looks at me with those guilt ridden eyes of hers and I suddenly have the urge to slap her.

"I don't know," she whispers bowing her head again.

When I woke up from my little nap, and after Mom woke up too, she seemed so put back together. She took control of what was happening to us and I was the one that felt like the world was spinning too fast for me and I just wanted to get off the ride. She took me to this very personal space and remained in control the whole time. I'm the one that kicked a tree and ended up having to go to the hospital.

So, what happened to the person that was around then? What happened to that mother of mine that was making me feel more secure than I'm feeling right now? "What did you and Catherine talk about while I was sleeping?"

Mom rubs at her eyes but keeps her head facing the ground. "It's not important."

"I'm pretty sure it is."

"She told me to not go to Mom's grave without her," Mom confesses. "She said she'd wait a couple of days if I promised her not to go there."

"Was that it?" It seems like more than that had to be discussed.

"No," Mom wipes at her face again. "We also talked about what I was doing and why. She's scared." Her eyes turn to me. "She asked me to be strong for you."

I'm not sure if I should be offended by the notion that I can't be strong for myself. "The conversation help ground you some?"

Mom nods.

"The grounding wear off?"

Mom nods again.

"I'm not sure this means anything coming from me, but if you had met up with Catherine while she was still using, I don't think either of you would have walked away from each other." They might be angry with each other right now, for reasons that are probably worthy reasons, but they mean a lot to each other. I'm at least sensible enough right now to recognize that. They feed each other positives in a way that they probably can't get from anyone else. The bad side of that, though, is that they probably can feed each other some major negatives that no one else can, too.

Nikki and I are probably the same way, sort of. Although, I don't think we ever have really hurt each other. No, that's not exactly true. We have hurt each other, but we used the convenient cloak of friendship as a barrier for the amount of pain we actually inflicted.

Mom looks like she's going to say something to me, but my phone starts ringing. She digs into her pocket and pulls it out, then hands it over to me. The number on the ID is Nikki's.

I take a deep breath before I answer the phone. "Hello."

"Is it true about Avery?"

I guess that means that Catherine shared Mom's story with Nikki. "Yes."

"I'll kill him." She sounds a little more than upset. She never sounded this angry when he used to threaten me before. She actually asked that I give him leniency.

"I don't think it's worth it." There's no point in me saying that she should have had that same attitude a few years ago.

"Was Bri with him?" So I still get the extreme privilege of telling her that one of her former lovers and childhood friends is dead. Mom just had to skip over that part.

I sigh into the phone. "No," I clear my throat. "He told me that she's dead, Nik, from an overdose."

"That's not too surprising." She's sounds really calm right now, which is why doing this over the phone is probably the worst way to do this. Nikki is good at hiding things in her voice, but I can always read her facial expressions.

"I'm sorry, Nikki." I am genuinely sorry for her loss. I'm sorry that she has to go through this. I'm sorry I'm not there to go through it with her right now, and I'm sorry that…no. I can't even think that. I'm not sorry for taking this trip. The picture I got from Mom still makes this trip worth it. Mom taking me to her secret little hiding place still makes this trip worth it.

My hand reaches out and finds a resting place on Mom's thigh.

"Are you okay at least?" Nikki shouldn't even have to ask me that right now.

"I've got a new fancy knee brace." There's no point talking about Bri or Avery right now while we're still this far apart.

"I can't wait to see it." The sarcastic excitement in her tone doesn't hide the shakiness in her voice.

"It's the only symbol I have from my unsuccessful war on the tree." Mom's hand slides onto mine. So maybe my sarcastic excitement isn't disguising the pain in my voice either.

There's a slight pause, then I hear Nikki clearing her throat. "We're almost there." The shakiness is gone. She's managed to push it away somehow. How often has she had to push it away for me before?

"I'm sorry, Nik. I'm sorry I've pulled you into this." I don't think there's any way right now that I could possibly clear away the voice of my pain right now. It'd probably be best if I could, best for Nikki, but I just don't think I can right now. Maybe that's one of the side effects of the painkiller the doctor gave me. At least, I can hope it's the side effect of the painkiller and not my inability to be just a little bit selfless for once.

"We'll talk about it later," she replies firmly. "Now won't work, Mel."

"I know." Suddenly, I feel like I've started this whole conversation off wrong. I probably feel a little bit like Mom did when she opened her mouth just a little bit ago as I first walked out of those hospital doors. My brain just fucked up somewhere between 'hel' and 'lo'.

"I'll see you when we get there." She hangs up before I get a chance to say goodbye, and I'd like to think that her action isn't a sign of her anger at me, but I haven't been that delusional in a long time.

I close my phone and then lay it down beside me on the ground. My eyes close and I lean my head against the cool brick that's supporting my body. "I think I need a 'get out of jail free' card."

"Nikki's angry?"

Before I open my mouth to answer, Mom squeezes my hand and tells me she's sorry for asking such a stupid question.

"It's hard for me to picture Nikki being angry at you," she confesses. "She's always so gentle with you."

I chuckle softly. "You think so?"

"Are you saying she's not?" I can feel Mom's body perk up next to mine.

I open my eyes, but keep my head leaning back. "No, it's just that I think we find different ways to hurt each other that don't always involve yelling."

"I understand that."

"Yeah," I sigh heavily. "I know you do."

At least, currently, I know that Mom understands. Before this little trip, I'm not sure that I fully got that little dynamic about Mom and Catherine's relationship. It makes sense that that's the way it is. Mom really isn't the yelling type and while I could see Catherine getting into a good fighting match, I just don't see her losing it completely with Mom. I'd say that probably has something to do with Catherine wanting to remain in control, but what do I really know about any of it. I can hardly get things straight with Nikki.

"Do you have any practiced methods that'll smooth things over?" I ask.

Mom gets this incredulous look on her face. "You're asking me for advice?" Her voice rises a little.

"Yeah," I draw out the word. "At least I think I am." My head drops away from the brick and I level my gaze on my mother. "Should I not be?"

The incredulity hasn't left Mom's face yet. "I don't think you've ever asked me for advice before."

"What?" That can't be true. I'm sure I've asked her advice on something before. I might not be able to remember what that thing was at this moment, but I must have asked her for help before on something. "I've asked you for advice before."

Mom shakes her head. "No, you haven't, Mel."

"Okay." I nod. "Then, I'm asking for it now. How do I make Nikki and me better? How do I fix this?"

Mom starts laughing softly, and I'm tempted to pull my hand away from her and indignantly cross my arms. I didn't ask her this to be laughed at. "What?"

"You couldn't have started off asking me for help with something a little easier?" She's smiling and some part of me feels the pull to smile back.

"Does that mean you don't have a cure-all solution?"

"Mel," Mom is completely serious again, "I don't even have a solution for my own relationship."

I nod a couple of times. "I get it."

"I wish I had the answer for you, Mel."

I wish she did too. "Do you think Cath and Nikki are talking about us right now, like this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think they ask each other for solutions pertaining to us?" Catherine and Nikki do spend time together.

"I've never thought about it." Mom says, but I can tell that she's starting to think about it now just like I'm thinking about it now. Maybe they need help trying to fix things just like we do.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimers in Previous Chapters.**

**Chapter 14**

Since Mom took me to her former 'special place', I figured that I could try and return the favor. This time, I drive us to the new spot and give Mom a break from maneuvering us around this place we used to call 'home'.

"It's a school," Mom states the obvious.

"It's my old middle school."

Right now, we're standing outside of the relatively small building staring at the front doors. There are few cars in the parking lot. I didn't think anyone would be here since it's the weekend, and, according to their billboard, it's the beginning of Spring Break as well.

"Why are we here?" Mom sounds confused, or maybe it's a little bit of fear I hear seeping through. This was her middle school as well all those many, many years ago.

"Come on," I push myself off of leaning against my car and start heading towards the side of the building.

"School's out, Mel," Mom reminds me needlessly.

"I'm not here to visit any old teachers." A grin works its way across my face. "I don't think any of them would want to see me anyway."

"I thought you were always a good student?"

"Good is a relative term, Mom." We reach the side of the building and I immediately go to a window and start pushing at it.

"What are you doing?" Mom sounds alarmed. "We can't break in here."

I turn back and give her a small smirk. "Perhaps it's you who was the 'good' student."

"Mel," Mom crosses her arms in front of her, "I can't condone breaking and entering."

"Who's breaking anything," I turn my attention back to the window. "This window has been broken for years, and I'm not the one that broke it. The school has always been too cheap to fix it."

If Nikki was here with me, she probably wouldn't talk to me about breaking and entering, despite the fact that she's a police officer now.

A sigh escapes me. I think I'm really starting to miss Nikki, and we haven't been separated that long. There have been times when we've been separated for longer, but I think I just really want her with me right now. I'm, well not necessarily glad, but am content with having spent this time with Mom, but I think we need some kind of buffer between us right now.

We're falling apart without Catherine and Nikki next to us, holding us up. We're slipping…I'm slipping back into a personality I had thought was shed off of me, out of me.

I get the window open and motion for Mom to go ahead and enter ahead of me. She gives me a dubious look, then shakes her head, but enters the classroom anyway. It's a good thing she's not overweight or anything, because I don't think she would have been able to get through the window otherwise. It'd be all kinds of messed up if either of us got caught because we got stuck.

"Aren't you coming?" Mom asks me.

I shake my head to refocus on my task at hand then enter the building; thankfully, without getting stuck in the window either.

"Now what?" Mom's looking around nervously. I shake my head again, then walk to the classroom door and open it slowly. I stick my head out and take a peek down the hallway; I can't see anyone so step out into it. "Where are you going?" Mom whispers harshly from behind me.

"Just follow me," I whisper back as I carefully jog down the hallway stopping at the corner to take a peek down another hall.

"If Catherine has to bail us out of jail," Mom peeks around the corner with me, "I'm blaming you for everything."

"Have you always been this unadventurous?" I ask, pulling back against the wall.

"If by unadventurous you mean trying not to break the law, then yes, I am unadventurous."

Her words remind me, once more, of how different my mother and I are. My grade school days did consist, sometimes, of things that were illegal. I never got caught, and perhaps that wasn't always for the best. I know now that a lot of things that I did, in part, had something to do with me being bipolar.

I took unnecessary risks and probably hurt a lot of people with my actions. If I wanted to be honest with myself, I really try not to think about a lot of the stuff I've done. It's easier, at least for now, that I don't think about it, because even if I did think about it, I wouldn't know what to do after all the thinking went on. It's not like I can go seek out everyone that I might have hurt or everyone that was affected by me in one way or another and apologize to them all. That's simply not feasible.

I can't help but take a look down the hallway and find myself staring at the set of black lockers that are positioned in front of me. My last year in school, my locker was in this hall, number 635. I can't remember the combination, but that's probably because I never really bothered to use it. I never really bothered to carry my books around to class and cared even less about organizing my class binders, an action the instructors insisted would teach me organizational skills.

Mom thought I was a good student? Well, I was smart; I can at least admit that much. I did my work and managed not to sleep through the idle lectures that the teachers gave day after day, trying to educate my peers that could care less about complex sentences, the Civil War, overused, over-read novels that are taught around the country as standard reading, and mathematical equations no one would remember past the threshold of the classroom door.

Genetics were in my favor when it came to my capacity for knowledge. I always thought that I owed my biological parents for that and it never crossed my mind that I would ever have a Sidle to thank for my intelligence. I never had any issues about being adopted. I was glad for it. I was glad for the people who thought they were insulting me by telling me that I wasn't really my parents' daughter, because I thought it a gift. But then, my 'parents' died and I find out that I did share their blood after all. I find out I'm a Sidle. I get told a story I never even imagined could be true.

Not caring anymore about being caught, I step into the hallway adjacent to the one I'm in, and walk down it. I can't just stand here drowning in my memories anymore. That's not what I came here for. Mom calls out my name in a harsh whisper, but I ignore her. It doesn't matter anymore whether or not she follows me. It doesn't matter if we take this final journey together before Nikki, Catherine and Lindsey arrive.

It's just important that I do this. It's important that I face the things that I thought I'd left behind here. I don't know what Mom remembers as she walks down these halls. I don't know if it's important for me to know any of her memories about this place. I doubt our experiences were similar.

At least she was normal when she was here. She might not have been popular, and I could see her being a little bit of a nerd with her head stuck in a book, but all that means is that she was very different than me.

I was bipolar. This place is where the signs of my disorder started and where they were, for the most part, ignored. I was just one of many children that needed extra attention, but couldn't be given it because so many things were already keeping the school administrators and faculty busy.

Mom is following me and has given up on trying to get me to respond to her. She's walking close behind me and has even grabbed onto my hand. I lead us to a light blue colored door. I reach out for the handle and start moving it around in different directions until I hear a slight clicking sound. The lock has been broken for years too.

The door slides open and I step through it. Once Mom and I are inside, I push it closed, satisfied to hear the clicking of the lock once more. "This is where I spent most of my time," I say. "When things would get too bad at home, I would pack a bag and come here to stay the night."

Mom releases my hand and takes a few steps away from me. She looks around this small space, and I'm unsure from her expression what she thinks about my past hideout.

Her continued silence pushes me to speak. "I met Nikki when I was in high school, but I'd bring her here with me sometimes so that her friends couldn't find us." Hopefully Mom understands that 'friends' is just a euphemism for 'drug dealers' and 'drug addicts'. "This is where I got her clean."

"I don't remember this room being here before." Mom finally looks back at me. She's done evaluating this small bare space, with its unpainted walls and hard cement floor.

"I don't know why they built it," I give a slight shrug. "I think it might have been part of a project that wasn't ever finished." I move over to the unpainted wall and flip the light switch up and down a couple of times. "The electricity isn't even hooked up, so they don't bother to use it for storage space even. All it is, is an empty room with a tiny window that faces the East."

Mom's eyes immediately go to the small window that is only a few centimeters below the ceiling. "This is like a prison cell, Mel."

"No," I shake my head. "The room I had at the B&B was like a prison cell." I prop myself up against the wall and focus my attention on the small window. "This place was my freedom."

"You never got caught in here?" she asks. "No one found out you stayed here?"

"I knew I couldn't tell anyone about this place."

"But you brought Nikki here? You trusted her?"

"I don't think I did," I shake my head, "but I wanted to help her."

"What made you want to do that?" Mom asks me softly. "Why take on that responsibility?"

I give a weak shrug of my shoulders then ask, "Why did you do it for Catherine?"

Mom's gaze turns away from me. "I didn't help Cath get off the drugs, Mel. You know that."

I kick at the ground although there's nothing for me to kick at except for cold cement. "I'm sure you've done other things though." There are a lot of things that have happened between Catherine and Mom that I don't know about. I don't even necessarily need to know about them. I don't know if I want the responsibility that comes with knowing everything that's happened to them and between them.

It's stupid, but a part of me doesn't fully picture Catherine and my mother as actual human beings full of emotions and full of pain. How could I possibly handle trying to take responsibility of that knowledge while still trying to sort out all that shit that keeps on weighing me down?

I was strong once; this room sort of proves that. Once upon a time, I was strong enough to take on the responsibility of caring for someone else and risking myself to care. I risked falling to pieces for Nikki, and I still can't grasp the reason why I even bothered to do it in the first place. I didn't love her then, not like I love her now.

"Why would I risk that?" I say aloud to the emotionless walls of the room.

Mom walks up to me and places herself against the wall next to me. "Risk what?"

I blink a couple of times then turn my head so that I can look into her eyes. "Why would I risk caring about someone else when I didn't even care about myself?"

Mom looks unprepared for my brutally honest musings. She moves a little bit away from me, and then turns her gaze away from me completely, which doesn't matter that much to me since I didn't expect to get an answer from her. I didn't even expect to voice my thoughts, so I'm not really missing out on anything.

Mom blows out a big breath as she runs her hands through her hair. "This is hard for me, Mel," she says softly and probably a little unnecessarily. I know that this is hard for her; it hasn't been a walk in the park for me either. I'm pretty sure that none of this is supposed to be particularly easy. The easiest part of this whole trip thus far, has been the packing of my bag before I left, and I'm not sure that was entirely easy either.

"Yeah," I draw out the word unsure what to say after I've turned it into a five syllable word, so I kick at the floor again as I stuff my hands deep into my pockets.

Mom's hands settle at her sides. "Sometimes, it's hard for me to believe you're my daughter."

I'm not sure what that means. "What do you mean?"

"This doesn't seem entirely real, Mel," she whispers to the ground. "It doesn't always feel real."

This would completely suck if this was just an elaborate hallucination in one of our minds. With my history, chances are that the hallucination would be mine, and when I managed to get in touch with reality again, I'd be back in this little safe space I found for myself wishing just one more time that my life was completely different.

If my life for the last few years has been a hallucination, then I don't want to know about it. "Sometimes Mom, the surreal is real."

Mom closes her eyes. "I know." A humorless laugh escapes from her. "When I woke up in my old bedroom, I thought I hadn't woken up at all."

And when I woke up, I blocked everything out and pretended like things were different so that I wouldn't have to deal with it. I had Catherine on the phone to keep me preoccupied. Wait, I had Catherine on the phone… "That's why you kept Cath on the phone; it's why you didn't hang up. She was there to tell you that it was real and that it was okay."

Mom doesn't open her eyes but she does manage to give me a slight nod, and suddenly I feel like my brain is finally starting to wake up to this whole set of experiences that my mother and I have shared in what is probably now just over twenty-four hours.

"We didn't have to stay there, Mom." I took the phone away from her. I would have sacrificed receiving that picture to keep Mom from waking up into a nightmare. We can take new pictures. We can make different memories.

"I woke up to you, Mel." Her eyes finally open.

"I shouldn't have taken the phone away. I should have thought ahead, maybe considered that you'd be waking up into the reality of one of your nightmares." I should have tried to stay up at least until she was asleep. The minute I found out we were in her old room, I should have done something, just anything. I shouldn't have been too tired to fucking care.

Mom puts her hand on my shoulder. "I woke up to you, Mel." She repeats and says it exactly like she said it the first time, with the same tone and everything. This is supposed to mean something to me, because it obviously means something to her.

"What does that mean?" My brain is too stupid right now to figure all this out on its own. It's ironic, considering that I'm currently standing in a school, where supposedly brains are supposed to do most of their critical thinking.

"I had dreams about sleeping in the room after I left," Mom's hand remains on my shoulder. My guilt and current self-loathing is telling me to pull away, but my concern lets me allow the contact. "I'd have this dream where I would wake up in my old bedroom and my mother would be standing over me with your lifeless body in her arms. She would say that your death was my fault, and then would toss your body at me, and I would try to revive you but I never could. You were always too far gone for my help."

When she woke up earlier, she woke up to me. I get it; I was alive.

"I've tried so hard to change that dream," Mom's hand falls from my shoulder. "I've tried to make things different, but I could never change it. It's always been the same."

"But the reality is different, Mom." I remove my hands from my pockets. For a short moment, I consider reaching out for her, but can't find it in me to do so right now.

Mom looks directly into my eyes. "Do I deserve it to be?" she asks and the seriousness of her question just about knocks me over.

I'm not ready to pass judgment on her. I might have been more than ready to do that in the past, but I'm not ready, nor am I comfortable with doing that now. I have enough judgment right now to pass down on myself. "It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter if either of us deserves anything we have at this point, we have it and we should at least try to keep it."

"It's like Catherine's raised you," she comments and I'm unsure if my words have been taken in the way that I'd meant them.

"Mom," this time I don't stop myself from reaching out to my mother and grabbing onto her hand. "Catherine has some pretty good ideas at times. I know she's not perfect, but someone has to be the voice of reason and neither of us is completely up to that task yet."

Mom shakes her head, and then pushes herself off of the wall. "Let's get out of here."

"I love you, Mom." I stay where I am. "That's the reality now."

My words make Mom's body deflate. Her shoulders sag down as she lifts her head to look back at me. She cups my face with the palm of her right hand. "I love you too, Mel."

"Then what's wrong with me sounding like Catherine?" I force myself to keep my focus on her eyes. Looking away right now would spur my entire body to pull away.

"I'm jealous, Mel. I never really thought about being your mother, because I never thought I'd get the chance, but now that I've been given it, I've wanted it more than anything. I've wanted the chance to be your mother, but you've given it to Catherine." Mom pulls her hand away from my face. "You gave it to Catherine long before you even knew you were my daughter."

The denial that's been forming in my brain stops before my mouth can voice it. Denying what Mom's said, would just be me lying to try and make her feel better. I don't feel like lying to her right now. We've been honest thus far; I wouldn't want to mess with it now, because the simple truth is more than obvious. I might call Sara my mother, and I might mean it, but I've chosen Catherine to be my parent. I've chosen to go to her for comfort and advice. I've chosen to let her hold onto me when I felt myself breaking apart. I haven't struggled at all with her.

I don't know how to change that. I don't know how to completely remove the past from my mind to let my mother actually act like my parent. We've made strides in that direction, but we're not there yet.

"I didn't mean to hurt you."

Mom's hand reaches back up and she wipes my tears away. "I didn't mean to hurt you either."

I nod my understanding, although I'm not sure my understanding is as full as it can be. I don't completely understand this. I've not been able to fully understand anything recently. I can't help but briefly wonder where that metaphorical box is that helps what seems like everyone else on the planet compartmentalize all these confusing things into their understanding.

That box needs to exist for me. I need to put everything in there and be able to pull out direction and understanding for my life. I don't want to make any more mistakes. I don't want to hurt anyone else. I'm tired of all this pain, and I'm tired of talking myself into believing that I'm releasing some of it when it doesn't seem to really be going anywhere.

I'm tired of always having to get better. I just want to be better. I just want my family…I just want my mother without all these things standing between us. I want it to be like when I'm in her arms and manage to forget things and manage for just a few moments to remember that she's my mommy. She loved me when I was born and held me with a smile on her face.

Why couldn't it just have been like that my whole life? Why couldn't it have been that way for both of us?

The last piece of me that has been holding the physical distance between my mother and I has been shattered. I jump into her body and wrap my arms around her. It doesn't matter that I'm taller and bigger than her, because I feel small when I'm around her.

She falls a few steps back as she adjusts to my weight, but she doesn't let me fall. She wraps her arms around my body and she tries to tell me that everything is going to be okay. I do my best to try and listen.

She promises me that we have time to change things and to make a difference. I do my best not to tell her that sometimes, I fear that time might actually be all we have.

* * *

**Author's Note:** As always, I want tot thank everyone for their reviews. I always read through them eagerly, curious about what you have to say.


	15. Chapter 15

**INNER PEACE**

**Disclaimers in Previous Chapters, and Oh hey look, Nikki's back. **

**Chapter 15**

When I wake up, I don't wake up in my mother's arms. I wake up in Nikki's. I snuggle further into her body before the surprise of her being here with me reaches my brain and the shock pulls me away from her.

"When did you get here?" I wipe at my face, hoping that perhaps the action will clear up my memory or lack thereof. I'm pretty sure that I would remember her showing up.

Nikki leans over and kisses my forehead, then smiles at me. "We just got here actually."

"We?" I sit up further and take a look around me. I'm still in the school's abandoned, isolated, colorless room. The only difference now, is that Nikki is here with me and my mother isn't. It'd probably be awful for me to admit, but I'm glad for the change

"Sara, Catherine and Lindsey are outside." Nikki's hand reaches out for me then caresses my face. "Sara said you had a little bit of a breakdown."

A humorless laugh escapes me. "I guess you could call it that." I remove her hand from my cheek and hold it in my own. "I remember this last day being a bit of a breakdown." I entwine our fingers and pull her closer to me. "Or maybe it's been my whole life that I've been breaking."

"I know that feeling."

The tone of Nikki's voice forces my attention away from our hands to her face. Although my eyes are tired, they manage to see something now that I haven't been able to see in a while; I see Nikki's pain and I can see her fear.

"How did you get here?" I ask her softly.

"Sara called us and told us where you both were." She gives me a pained smile. "She didn't have to give me too many details. I couldn't forget this place."

"Would telling you I'm sorry make up for anything right now?" In my head, I know saying that I'm sorry isn't enough to make anything better at this point. It can't help if I don't even know all what I'm apologizing for. I'm not sure what I'm responsible for at this point, and what I should take responsibility for. Perhaps, I can just be sorry that I don't know everything and I didn't think about what all this would do to all of us.

Nikki removes her hand from mine. "We need to save the apologies for later."

"Why?" It'd be easier to say everything now; at least while I'm still so out of sorts that I'm not quite fully connected to this conversation yet.

Nikki's gaze penetrates me; it's so strong. There's so much I can tell that she's feeling right now, and she's trying to hold it all back, but I'm giving her the opportunity to yell at me right now. I'm giving her this chance to tell me that I did something stupid, and I'm giving her a chance to yell at me about her friend dying and about making her come back to this unpainted and unused place where she left a lot of her pain. I at least know that I should take responsibility for that.

"I don't feel like letting you be selfish right now."

Selfish? Wanting to give her the opportunity to yell at me is being selfish? Maybe we don't use that particular word in the same way. When I say it, I usually mean it in a negative way. "What do you mean?"

"We're not here right now, Mel, because I want to be."

I'm not entirely sure that I want to be here either. It's sort of where my mother and I just ended up. I didn't plan this, and I didn't plan to pass out after crying in my mother's arms only to awaken to this. I haven't made any plans. Everything has been very short-term spur of the moment stuff. I didn't know it was being judged otherwise.

I don't feel like arguing about this now. Sadly, I'm not quite sure how I would defend myself. "We should join everyone else."

Nikki gives me a slight nod, and then stands up. She offers her hand down to me to help me stand, and despite my pain telling me not to take it, I do. She pulls me up and towards her body, but as soon as I have my balance, I take a small step away from her. She notices my action, but she doesn't say anything about it.

I swallow a couple of times before I turn away from her and walk over to the door. When I open it, I feel Nikki's hand on the small of my back. "I'm sorry, Mel."

Although I want to turn around to look at her, I don't. So, she'll be able to call me immature as well as selfish. "Let's go outside." Her hand falls from my back, and I do my best to pretend that I don't feel like I've just kicked myself in the stomach.

We walk through the empty hallways, unafraid of being caught. When we make it to the doors that face the largest parking lot, Nikki grabs onto my waist. She pulls my body to hers and I don't bother to resist. I'm too weak to resist much right now. Maybe now she'll start yelling at me.

"Shit, Mel." Her arms go around my body and she leans her head on my shoulder. It's pure instinct that pushes me to wrap my arms around her as I feel her tears against my shoulder.

"I'm okay Nik," I say, my words also driven by instinct. "I haven't disappeared."

Nikki's grip on me tightens. "Only you can scare me this much, Mel."

For crying so much right now, her voice is surprisingly steady. Even now, she's showing an amount of self-control that I'm almost positive I don't possess. Nikki is a better person than I am. I've always thought that, I think. Some part of me has always known that although Nikki has had her share of problems in life, it's me that doesn't deserve her. Everyone who has thought otherwise is just wrong.

She's opened up her soul to me, and all I seem to do is give her misery back but she continues to hang on to me. It doesn't seem like she wants to let me go. I don't know how long she can continue it, though. I don't know how long she can continue to push her problems and her past away so that she can remain with me.

The last time she broke down in my arms was before I moved to Las Vegas. It was before the car accident that took away my grandparents. It was before all of these things descended down onto my life like a crashing plane with no control over where it finally falls into its destruction. Unfortunately for Nikki, she's in the plane with me and it doesn't seem like she has a parachute.

I feel like telling her that I'm sorry, again, but I know it won't make a difference if the words pass my lips. I'd even like to tell her to run away from me. I'd like to tell her to save herself before…before I make things worse, I guess. Then maybe, after I do that, I can throw myself a nice pity party and beat myself up for telling Nikki to walk away from me.

Pushing her away will make me weaker. I'm smart enough to at least know that much. I'm smart enough to know that I'm being selfish, and smart enough to admit that right now I'm not strong enough not to be.

"I love you, Nikki." I love her selfishly.

She starts to push away from me, but I don't let her. She gives into my resistance and remains in my arms. "I know you do."

She pushes herself away from me again; this time I allow it. I force myself to look into her eyes. I force myself to face her tears and her pain.

"Catherine warned me about losing control in front of you," Nikki wipes at her eyes. "She said I should try and keep it together since you wouldn't be…together." She looks away from me briefly but forces her eyes back to mine. "I guess that advice went to shit."

"Sometimes," I step forward and stop Nikki's hands from continuing to rub at her face, "Catherine's advice isn't good advice." She looks at me confused, knowing how much I respect Catherine. "We're not going to be a carbon copy of their relationship. We can't be. We have to figure us out."

"In this place," Nikki's voice is soft and it pulls me back to the past, "you've always been the stronger one."

I find it in myself to be strong right now. I don't know if that has anything to do with the roles we fulfilled while we were in this place. I don't know if we've just thrown ourselves into the past. I probably can't even begin to understand what coming back here means to Nikki.

"We're different now," I remind her and remind me as well. "We have to remain that way."

"Okay," Nikki nods, and then turns away from me for a brief moment. When she faces me again, she surprises me by grabbing onto my waist. She pushes me against the nearest wall and leans her body against mine. "I'm glad you're okay," she whispers into my ear then starts to kiss my neck.

Her actions throw me off, completely. This isn't exactly normal behavior for her. She's usually a lot more restrained, but I guess that restraint went away the moment she crumbled and cried on my shoulder. If she feels anything like I felt after my journey from Las Vegas, then I'm surprised she didn't fall apart in the room when I woke up.

There were so many emotions tearing at me that I decided to shut down and pretend like I was indifferent. It didn't work, I was stupid to think that it would, but I did manage to get a few hours of sleep. If Nikki had been with me though, I might have found another way to release the emotion that was threatening to burst forth.

Nikki is offering another way right now. I'm not strong enough to resist it or to think about the consequences. I actually don't think that I need to. My love for Nikki is selfish. That doesn't seem so negative to me right now. I don't know if anyone can talk me into believing that it's negative again.

Her lips finally meet mine and I don't hesitate to respond to her. I pull her more tightly to my body. I want her to cover me and release me from the pain that's been knocking me down ever since I stepped foot in this town with my mother, and by the way Nikki's responding to me, I'm pretty sure she wants me to do the same for her.

My hands are making their way up her shirt when I hear someone very loudly clear their throat next to us. Nikki slowly removes herself from me, but manages to keep her hand settled on my waist.

"I never thought I'd catch you here again, Miss Sidle."

A slight blush covers my cheeks, but I have to raise my head and face the body of the voice. My obstinacy demands that I do. "Wasn't trying to be caught."

Nikki squeezes my waist, letting me know she doesn't completely approve of my response. "What Mel meant to say, was that we're sorry for being here."

The man standing across from us laughs softly. "No," he shakes his head, "I'm sure Melinda said what she meant."

I give a slight shrug of my shoulders. "Sorry, Mr. Riley."

He smirks at me. "I'm not sure I believe that apology either." He turns his attention to Nikki and looks her over. "I'm not sure I know you."

Nikki shakes her head. "I didn't go to this school."

He lifts a brow. "Shame," he says although his disappointment doesn't sound entirely genuine. "Do you have a name?"

"Nikki," she offers him her free hand, which he takes even though his attention seems to be on Nikki's hold on my waist.

"Glen Riley," he responds. "I was Melinda's eighth grade science teacher." He releases Nikki's hand. "She was brilliant, but lazy. I trust she's improved seeing as she's still alive."

Well, that was harsh. My lack of enthusiasm for school didn't make me reckless. Although, perhaps if it had kept my attention better then I wouldn't have been as reckless as I was. It's hard to say what would have changed things for me back then.

"You never did like to sugarcoat things," I say as I reach out to Nikki. "I can't remember how many speeches you gave me about actions and consequences." Nikki doesn't hesitate to lean her body partially against mine.

He nods. "Did any of them ever work?" He asks seriously.

"I think I was too far gone to listen at the time." My honesty seems to hurt him as much as his hurt me. I don't derive any satisfaction from that.

"I was always afraid of that."

"Hey Mr. Riley, it wasn't your fault." I almost reach out for him, but decide better than to try. I know I wasn't his favorite student, and I don't think I ever had any favorite teachers.

"We could have done better for you, Melinda." He sounds truly remorseful. "We let you down."

"You did," Nikki tells him after I maintain my silence.

"Nik," I softly admonish her, but she doesn't pay attention to me.

"A lot of you teacher types seem to manage to let a lot of kids down," she continues harshly, no doubt thinking about how the system failed her too. I didn't know she was still angry about it. Then again, I didn't know that I was still angry about it either. I've almost forgotten that I ever held any expectation for my educators at all.

"I won't give you any excuses." He looks at the bit of wall next to me then turns back to me. "All I can do is let you walk out of this school now without having you arrested, and give you the same break that I've given you both before."

Nikki gives me a confused look, not completely understanding his meaning. "He knew that I stayed here sometimes," I explain. "He kept it a secret."

The look she gives him softens considerably, "Thank you."

He clears his throat as he gives us a weak nod. "You look like you grew up okay, Melinda."

I chuckle. "There's not enough time to tell you the story of how that happened."

"You should come back during visiting hours; there are a lot of us that would like to hear it."

I don't know all of who he's talking about. I don't remember that many people seeming too concerned about me during my school days. "Maybe one day I'll do that."

"There are kids like you that walk through these halls everyday," he tells me. "It's good to know that some of them make it."

The way he's talking makes me think that he maybe had a clue about what was going on with me at home, but I don't remember talking to anyone about it. I don't remember the child protective services being called to investigate the situation. I don't clearly remember being offered any hope. Then again, I don't exactly remember being told his side of the story either.

"Yeah," I whisper, "you can just say I got out."

Nikki must see that I'm getting a little emotional again, because she gives me a slight squeeze as she leans downs and whispers, "We should get out of here."

I nod then give my attention back to Mr. Riley. "Thanks for not calling the police," I grin slightly at him. "My step-mother would have freaked out if we got arrested."

His blue-eyes let me know that he wants to ask more questions about my life, but he's not going to. He's going to let me go and wish me the best. I've seen him wear this look before. This whole scene is almost turning into a bit of déjà vu.

Nikki and I start walking away, but he calls after us saying, "At least I know I can get that broken window fixed now you don't need to sneak in through my classroom anymore."

His words just about push me over. "You might want to save it for the other ones like me," I tell him before I push on the door to exit the building.

"We never need to go in there again," Nikki tells me. "We're done with it."

I completely agree with her, but I thought I had been completely done with it before. I guess that doesn't mean that it was completely done with me. "Mr. Riley was pretty cool though. He didn't involve the police."

"What about the police?" I hear Catherine's voice call out to us, and can't help the smile that crosses my face. I turn to her and stop myself from giving her a hug since it seems that she's already got one of us Sidles wrapped around her.

"There are none coming," Nikki answers for me, as she pulls me to her, making up for the hug that I'm not going to get from Catherine.

Catherine gives us a slight nod. "We should get out of here."

"I say we hurry," Nikki replies.

"Where's Lindsey?" I ask, surprised she hasn't already jumped out to either hug me or yell at me.

"She's in the car," Catherine answers me. "She's upset with me right now."

I know better than to ask what about, but if I had to take a guess, I'd say it probably has something to do with Catherine telling Lindsey that Nikki and I needed some time alone. It can't be purely coincidence that she and I got all that time to be together without Lindsey wanting to check in on how things were going. She worries about us, even if she doesn't want to admit it yet, or even if she doesn't quite understand how to admit it.

"Okay," I sigh, "then we should get out of here, but I'm not going back to the B&B." I don't know if I could survive going back there. I don't even want to try. It's not important that I act strong right now. Mom is in Catherine's arms now, not in mine. We're not alone anymore.

"We've already found someplace else," Catherine assures me then turns her attention to Nikki. "Will you take Lindsey with you in Mel's car?" I guess that means that I'm not going to be doing any driving. Catherine's already got that worked out.

"Of course," Nikki answers, and I can tell that she's slightly disappointed that she and I aren't going to be alone for the drive to wherever it is we're going, but we've already gotten our time alone. I guess Mom and Catherine deserve the same. "Tell her to meet us."

Nikki turns away from my parents and leads us to my car. She opens the passenger side door for me and then takes her place behind the wheel. I look out the window to take another look at the school. I need to see it at least one more time. At the end of today, I don't want to pull away from this place just being another day older. I want us to leave with more than that.

I take my gaze away from the school and focus on Nikki. I study her face and suddenly I just know that we are more.


	16. Chapter 16

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**Disclaimers are in previous chapters**

**Chapter 16**

Catherine was smart enough to call a few hotels before she left Vegas to make sure we had a couple of rooms to stay in that wasn't my grandparents' old bed and breakfast. I guess she didn't want to try and stay the night there any more than I wanted to or probably any more than Mom wanted to either. So, she did something Mom and I failed to do when we left—she thought ahead. She reserved us two rooms in some high-scale hotel, the only one she could find with two rooms free and it must be costing her a small fortune. I was almost tempted to ask Nikki about it, but didn't think it was the best idea I could have come up with.

We ate a very awkward and mostly silent dinner together in Cath and Mom's room; the only one of us brave enough to try for conversation was Lindsey. She told me how she and a friend were fighting because her friend had told a lie about her. She gave extensive details that she probably wouldn't have given under normal circumstances.

I asked her questions about it, and feigned as much interest as I could possibly manage. She was trying, in her own way I think, to make things a little better and I didn't want to make it harder for her. It was hard to tell exactly what was going through her mind, and I was too afraid to ask her about it. I'm not ready to start talking to her about what driving to California means to her, or how she feels about her parents' current emotional state or how she feels about mine.

Someone needs to look after her. She's alone here with all this going on. I at least hope that Catherine recognizes that, and hope that she does something about it. I'd like to be that person for Lindsey. I'd like to try, but I don't think I can do it now. I wouldn't even know how to start doing it.

Nikki and I are, however, letting her stay in our room with us even though we aren't in the room right now. I don't know if we decided to do that more for Lindsey's benefit or more for Mom's and Cath's. Either way, we didn't stay around to hang out with Linds. We got back in my car as soon as we had trudged our way through dinner and we drove away from Tomales Bay. Nikki's taken us to a small bar between Tomales Bay and San Francisco that we used to hang out at before. We didn't really have any negative memories of this place, because it was like our little island between the hurricane behind us and the tornadoes in front of us. This was the calm place between our storms.

"I don't even remember how we found this place." We're sitting in a booth at the darkest corner of our dingy little island of calm. "Never really thought we'd be back here, at least not together."

Nikki's been doing her best to draw me into conversation all night. I know that I should be talking to her, sharing things, and making things just a little bit better, but it's like the part of my brain that forms words and controls my voice isn't listening to the part that's telling me to do something, just anything to make this time Nikki and I have stolen to be together not waste away into pointlessness.

I rub my finger around the top of my already half-empty glass. "Did you come here after I left?' I mutter down to the glass, still not able to force myself to act differently, and not able to rectify whatever it is that's wrong with me.

"I tried not to," Nikki replies, moving her body further away from mine. "I wanted to be able to let you go; wanted to forget everything."

It's her pain, I realize, that has made me become borderline mute. I've forgotten how to deal with her pain since I've been so involved in my own. It used to be that I focused so much on hers so that I'd forget my own. Overcompensation isn't just a word in the dictionary anymore; it's been able to become a new improved curse word with which I can find a way to torture myself. I can add it to the list that has slowly been building already.

Another apology is ready and willing to force itself out of me, but I know that the time for me to apologize has long since run out. I can't apologize for my actions anymore; it's time I am actually forced to face the consequences that saying 'I'm sorry' never quite manages to wash away.

"I'm glad you didn't forget." Finally something semi-meaningful has escaped. Maybe the double-shot of Vodka I asked for in my drink is starting to take effect.

Nikki leans her arms onto the table, her gaze shifts away from me and I realize that my silence was also for my own protection. It was less likely Nikki would say something damaging to me if she had nothing to respond to. "I started using again after you left."

Nikki's words somehow manage to effect the path my finger has been taking around the glass's rim and forces my finger to swing into the liquid below it. Nikki notices my action and smiles. "I guess I can't try and make it look like I actually meant to do that?" I ask as I take my hand out of the cool liquid it's fallen into.

The smile stays on her face. "You could always try." She reaches over and takes my hand in hers. Her eyes question me, wanting to know that it's okay for her to touch me, making sure that my anger won't appear at her confession.

"I love you." That's always better than an apology, right? That always means more.

Her grip on my hand tightens slightly as she brings my hand to her mouth and kisses it. "Thank you."

Suddenly, nothing's wrong with me anymore. The parts of my brain that should be talking to each other are talking to each other again. The odd interlude my brain decided to enter into is over. "When did you stop?"

She knows what I'm asking. "It took a while," she chuckles humorlessly at a joke I haven't been let in on yet. "I felt like I had just covered up a murder; it fucked me up."

Before I manage to make the trip out to Laura's grave, I'm going to figure out a way to blame her for Nikki's pain too. "So you went back to Avery and Bri?"

"To Bri," her voice cracks on her friend's name. "I brought her here." That must mean that she started sleeping with her again, too. That's great in only the fact that it's not great at all. "That's the night I stopped using, Mel."

The night she brought Bri to our haven is when she stopped using again? I'm not sure I want to hear this story.

"When I looked across the table and saw her, really looked at her I mean, it scared the hell out of me." Nikki's hot breath blows against the skin of my hand, the feeling somehow making her words more palatable to me. "I was so fucked up that night, but I could have sworn that when I looked up, to look at Bri, you were standing right next to her looking at us, and you were so angry. You looked at me the same exact way you would look at your mother." I know she's not talking about Sara. Her eyes let me know that she's reliving that moment as she tells me about it, letting me know that Laura has managed to haunt us both.

"That must have been some hate filled look then." It's a crappy joke. I'm ashamed to even admit that it's my small attempt at humor.

"It scared me, Mel," she whispers. "I didn't know you could ever hate me that much."

Could I hate her that much? Could I ever look at her like I looked at Laura Sidle? Could Nikki do something that would make my anger turn on her like that? What couldn't I forgive when it comes to Nikki? "It wasn't me looking at you like that. I wasn't there."

"No," Nikki shakes her head, "it was you." She says it with such certainty that I quickly sift through my memories seeking out a time I haven't been given on a date I'm not even aware of, trying to remember if I had ever walked into this bar while I was supposed to be in Las Vegas. "Somehow, some part of you knew what I was doing, what I had done and you came back to save me like you always did."

I know I was in Las Vegas, probably having another argument with Mom or maybe at that point I was having my flashback episodes that had me losing track of time. I was too messed up after I left to try and pay attention to what Nikki could be up to.

"You don't have to believe it," Nikki must recognize the doubt playing out across my face. "Just accept that it's what I believe."

Accept that she believes I'm her savior? This should probably be easier for me. "If you say I was there, then I must have been there." Some part of me must have been, if she believes it.

Her eyes narrow and scrutinize me. She wants to make sure that I'm not just humoring her. It's important to her that I don't pretend to agree with her. What happened was too important to her for me to make light of it and to not take it seriously.

Whatever she sees must satisfy her, because she leans back and her gaze breaks away from me. She shuffles her body around, somehow pulling me closer to her just by the loose grip she has my hand in. She bends down and places a kiss on my neck. "I want to go see my parents," she whispers in my ear.

I pull away from her, my brain not understanding the words that my ears have heard. "What?"

"I want you to come with me."

Now my ears must not be hearing things properly. "What?"

"It's time we both worked out the past and pushed it away so it stops messing up what we have."

"Are you sure?" My heart is beating so fast right now that I'm not entirely sure it will ever slow down again. A wave of adrenaline shoots through my veins and I feel the sudden urge to start moving around.

"No," Nikki gives me a rueful smile. "I think it might be the worst idea I've ever come up with."

"I know that feeling," some of the best things I've done have been accompanied with that feeling.

"So you'll come with me?"

"I'll try to."

A look of relief washes over her; it's almost like she expected me to refuse her. "Catherine urged me not to do it."

It seems like Catherine's managed to offer a lot of advice about things recently. "So why did you?"

Nikki releases a quick breath. "Mel, you told me we couldn't be like them and you were right. We have to be us. It's not like being them right now is…" her voice trails off, but I know how to fill in the blank that she's left between us.

It's no great secret that Mom's and Catherine's relationship isn't working right now. It's crumbling; perhaps it has been for a while now and I'm just now realizing it, and perhaps the same has been happening between Nikki and me. We've told each other that we're moving forward when we were really just moving sort of…sideways I guess, only intent on seeing progress.

We ignored our inability to completely commit. We ignored this past we're now trying not to drown in, but we've put on a good show for the world to see. Everyone thinks that Nik and I are perfectly happy and envy our relationship. They can't see the flaws in it, and we didn't want to see them either. We desperately wanted to be happy because we had just finished being so desperately miserable. At least, I know that's the way it was for me.

Catherine and Mom did try to warn us. They saw something. Maybe they were living through that something at the time, I don't know. I didn't bother to know. I'm not even sure it was my place to try and find out.

"So, what else did you and Catherine talk about?"

Nikki smirks. "What did you and Sara talk about?"

I give a soft laugh as all the words I exchanged with my mother force their way into my mind at once. "Too much to try and remember right now." Too much for me to try and decipher and recount in an understandable manner. "The most important thing, the thing I'm trying to work out, is that she chose to be my mother and somehow it's me that has been rejecting her." I rub my head with my free hand. "It doesn't make sense to me yet."

Nikki tilts her head and blinks a few times. She looks like she's trying to fill in the blanks of the conversation between Mom and me that she wasn't even there to hear. "She's jealous of Catherine?"

Is she? "I don't know."

"Catherine told me," Nikki pauses, maybe unsure of what she's about to confess, "she said that she's afraid that if she lost Sara that she'd lose you, too. She said she'd find a way to survive losing Sara because she's lost lovers before, but that she wouldn't know how to survive losing a child."

"My head doesn't know how to receive those words right now." I don't know how to receive anything that involves my parents. It's like suddenly I need to quantify my relationship with each of them and I don't know how to do that. I don't know how to add up all the things that make my relationship with Catherine different from the relationship I have with my mother. I don't know how to say that those differences are what theoretically make it better. I'm not even sure it is better; I'm not sure what being better means. I'm not even sure if it's supposed to mean anything at all.

"Be careful about chasing down answers with this, Mel," Nikki warns me. "This is something you might actually need to run from."

"I still need to figure it out for myself, though."

"Then figure it out, but do it without them." Her tone lets me know that she's completely serious about this. There's something more that she knows or something that she sees that's driving her to caution me. There has to be, because she's never told me to walk away from them before, or to run away rather.

"So, when do you want to see your parents?" I won't ask her any questions about the advice she's just given me. If she wanted to give me details for her reasoning, then I'm sure she would have.

"Tonight," Nikki gently urges me off the booth. "If I wait, then I'll never go." Her eyes quickly beg me for forgiveness. She knows I wasn't expecting this, and I'm not entirely sure she expected it either. It's a surprise for us both, and not an entirely welcomed one.

"I'll drive," it's the only thing I can offer her at this moment. It wouldn't be fair for me to promise her that everything will be fine, when I'm more than a little sure that it won't be.

Nikki hasn't seen her parents in at least five or six years. She walked away from her family and decided that she didn't need one. She hasn't told me all of the stories from her youth, but she doesn't need to. I understood it without knowing it, just like she understands mine without me telling her every detail.

We make our way to the car then slide into it, maintaining a determined silence that transforms itself into an anxious one as I start the engine. I can feel Nikki's eyes tearing into me as I slowly maneuver us back onto the vacant street.

"You can tell me to go back to the hotel."

She reaches over and places her hand on my thigh. "I know."

A part of me wishes that she would tell me to turn around and head back to where our family might be waiting for us, but a bigger part of me knows that even if she did tell me to turn back that I shouldn't listen. She needs me to do this for her. It's time for me to be the strong one here. I'm always the strong one in this place. I need to find that place inside of me that managed to handle all of this before and pull it back out.

I brought us back here. I managed to drag everyone to this place. That was my action, and this is part of my consequence. "Why don't you try and get some sleep." My right hand covers the one Nikki has on my thigh. "You've been up all day running around. Get some rest while you can."

"I'm not tired," Nikki responds, obviously trying to hold back a yawn.

"I know where I'm going, Nik. You don't need to keep watch."

"I couldn't sleep now if I tried," she sinks further down into her seat.

"Try, please." She needs to sleep before the waking nightmare she'll encounter with her parents seeps through her psyche into her dreams.

Her hand moves under mine, her fingers wiggle against my thigh. She smiles at me, then leans her head back and closes her eyes. I focus my attention on the road ahead of me and let my mind wander. I think about what the chances are of me being pulled over this late at night, and then grow slightly concerned as to whether or not I'd be able to pass a breathalyzer. I check my speed, making sure that I'm well within the speed limits not willing to risk being arrested.

When I look back over at Nikki, I manage to hold back the envy that wants to wash over me. I'd like to get my chance at sleep, but I think I've given the entire concept up now that I've firmly situated myself into the unknown. It wouldn't have even crossed my mind just a few hours ago that I would be driving Nikki to go see her parents. I'm not sure it would have crossed anyone else's either.

Time starts to fade away from me as I concentrate on how the headlights hit the road ahead of me. I make all the necessary turns to get to my destination but if asked to recall any of the specifics from the drive, I wouldn't be able to recall any except that Nikki looked a lot more comfortable asleep than she had in a while.

I park the car across from Nikki's parents' house, but I don't bother to wake Nikki up. I don't have the heart to do it now. So instead, I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. I promise myself that I'll only rest for a moment and will wake up before Nikki has a chance to.

For now, I just want to rest and not force us into a motion, an action that will propel us towards a relationship we've never bothered to even form. When we knock on that ominous front door that leads straight into Nikki's past, we'll be starting up something new and something we didn't have to look in the face of before. I rather keep us still now, in this bubble we built up with our time in the bar. I rather it be just us together, sharing this sacred time while we are able to take it.

I've brought us to this house. I've looked at the bright green windowless door, and I've measured my will against it. I've looked for movement inside where I knew there would most likely be none. These have all been my actions and I would rather let us sleep than face the consequences of them now.

**Author's Note: As always thank you for the reviews. They are always appreciated because I am interested in what reader's think. Also, you may have noticed the prequels to Mad World I have written "Outflux" and "Outflux: Sara's Burden". My main writing focus for this series is **_**Inner Peace**_**, however, if you truly want me to write more oneshot looks into this series please let me know. If I get enough requests to continue them, then I will. Thanks again, as always.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimers in previous chapters**

**Chapter 17**

To say I was surprised to see Nikki's weighted gaze looking over me when I woke up would be an unnecessary lie. I may have promised myself to wake up first, but I'm used to breaking promises I have made to myself.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" Nikki asks me, not giving my mind much time to wake up to the reality it had so recently sought refuge from.

I don't answer her. Instead, I straighten in my seat then move my body across the center console that separates us. She looks confused at my actions, but allows me to settle onto her lap. She doesn't protest when I bring my hands to her face and gently run my fingers down the soft frown she's presenting to me.

Her gaze stays locked on mine and I find that the words I have for her aren't necessary at all. So, I lean down and kiss her, happy to feel her lips moving against mine. When I feel her starting to pull away from me, I push myself further into her, not yet ready to let her escape from this. Her body relaxes against me and I can feel her hands creeping up my back urging me to close whatever space between us that has managed to remain.

A fierce knock on the passenger window acts as the catalyst for our bodies to slowly pull apart. I allow my eyes to focus on Nikki's for what seems like a full minute before I even bother to look out the window. Nikki's eyes follow mine and I feel her body become rigid underneath me.

The recognition that washes through me at the sight of the woman standing outside of the car is only granted to me by the remarkable physical similarities this stranger shares with Nikki. I reach over and unlock the doors, not seeing the point in rolling down the window. I push open the car door and carefully remove myself from Nikki's lap.

The woman's eyes rake over my body, measuring me up against a scale that I know will never allow me to be proven worthy. I give her a slight nod, acknowledging her. The woman looks past me, perhaps even completely through me, straight to Nikki. "You know your whores aren't allowed here."

I've been called worse by people who are worse, but those words weren't meant to affect me. They were meant to rest solely on Nikki, to affect her.

Nikki takes her time stepping out of the car, each move deliberate and measured. Her arms wrap around my waist from behind and I can feel her push her body into my back. "The only whore I see standing in front of me," her words drop off abruptly, giving her audience's brain a chance to finish her words before she does, "is you, Mom."

The woman standing before me stiffens. Her eyes flutter briefly and when they refocus on their target, I'm exposed to a look of determined coldness that I've had the privilege to spar with before, only difference is that it wasn't this woman wearing it then. "Do you need money, Nicole?"

Nikki's arms tighten around me. "I'm not here to be bought off again."

An imagined scene of Nikki standing before this woman, asking for money in exchange for her disappearance, floods through my head. I try to imagine what Nikki would have said to her parents. I wonder if her parents knew she would use whatever they gave her to cushion an unhealthy addiction. Did they even care that she was slowly killing herself or was it too much for them to pretend she was their child and hurting?

"Then why even come?" There's finality in the words that I know must hurt Nikki more than I can even understand right now. "What possible reason could you have?"

Nikki's arms drop from around my waist. She's done using me as her shield, because she steps from behind me and captures a position in front of her mother. "How can you even ask me that? How dare you even ask me that?

Eyes that are so much different than Nikki's seek me out and rake themselves over my body, as if silently asking me if this moment is for real. They want to know if Nikki is really standing in front of them, but I'm not the one to be asked anything. I'm just the whore who brought Nikki back. I give Nikki's mother no answers. She needs to seek them out on her own because I'll give her nothing.

"Let's go inside, Nicole" Her mother looks around us. It's too early in the morning for anyone to start paying attention to what is happening in the middle of the street outside of their homes. We're not making a scene, but if she wanted us to I wouldn't mind. The curses I have ready to unleash on this woman would love the opportunity to humiliate her in front of people who probably have no idea the sins she has committed against the sole person I believe has unhindered access to my soul.

She turns her back on us and starts leading us towards a home I've never been invited into before. Nikki doesn't hesitate to follow her mother; she walks with purpose to the door. She's committed herself to let this moment play out and I am in no position to offer my protests now. I'm sure Nikki wouldn't mind if I asked to stay outside, but I don't feel like being that cowardly today. I can save it for another day when Nikki isn't the one in need of my support.

So, with a less determined gait, I make my way to the door. Nikki waits for me at the threshold. I don't know if that's because she can't cross it without me, or if it's because she wanted to make sure I could make the short journey to the door. Her eyes carefully follow the movements of my muscles, probably making sure I'm okay to walk through the open door with her.

I offer her the best smile of encouragement I have within me. We're treading into waters I don't have much experience swimming in, outside of offering the odd word of encouragement or two to someone playing basketball. I've done more cheerleading than actual standing tall as someone else's support beam. Hopefully, Nikki will forgive me if what I offer isn't enough.

She takes my hand, curling her fingers around mine as she leans over and presses a kiss against the side of my lips. "Thank you," she whispers as she pulls away.

Once again, I offer her nothing but a faltering smile. I don't know what to say, hoping that my stepping into the house with her says enough.

"Your father won't be happy about this," the woman spews her hate in my direction once again. I must look like an easy target to her, much like I must have looked to Laura Sidle.

"He can rot in Hell for all I care," Nikki answers, and I couldn't agree more with her. I silently hope that her father isn't in the house right now. I'm not sure what I'll do if and when I meet him, not after the pain he's put Nikki through. I've been through a lot, more than I even fully want to admit to myself. My father raped my mother, and that's all sorts of fucked up, but Nikki's father raped _her_.

If I do get my chance to meet him, we just might have to gather the family around to cover up a murder. I'm sure I could find a way to talk Catherine and Mom into going along with it. I couldn't have any better accomplices even if I tried. Two CSI agents and a police officer against the word of a woman who knowingly stayed silent while her daughter was attacked in her own home, I'm sure we'd win that fight.

Nikki's mother takes a step away from us despite not really being that close in the first place. Her eyes widen as they are focused on me, and I have a feeling that she must see I'm no longer the easy target she mistakenly took me for. Her eyes return to her daughter, "What is it you want Nicole?"

Before Nikki has a chance to answer, the one person I wished wasn't here shows up. He stops mid-stride, obviously surprised by his current view. Nikki immediately puts her hand against my arm and casually places herself behind me, allowing her hand to drop down to my waist as soon as she's fully behind me.

"Nicole?" he asks, still not moving. His eyes are forced to roam over us both, not able to look at one without looking at the other.

Nikki pulls me into her body, putting more distance between her father and me. I'm almost positive she does this for my benefit.

"Dad."

He straightens up and I mimic his action. He's not a very tall man, doesn't look too imposing. I've seen scarier men in my life, interacted with them even.

I try to take a step forward, but the soft restraint against my waist stops me. So, I smirk at him instead. Doing my best to let him know that I know I'm bigger than him, and that he is weak and pathetic. I've fought bigger and stronger; I took down Laura Sidle.

"Is there something you need?" He asks me, although I'm sure he's not actually talking to me. We don't know each other. We probably would have never met if not for our joint connection to Nikki.

"I'm off the drugs." I take my eyes away from Nikki's father to look at her. She's scared, terrified. I'm not even sure that I've ever inspired such raw genuine emotion from her. To the people who know her in Vegas, seeing her like this wouldn't make sense to them. Nikki is self-assured. Her insecurities rest close to her and are never open for public viewing. She faces down the worst of Las Vegas and I'm told she does it with ease. She always stands strong and firm, always ready to fend off anyone who would look to hurt her as her father did. But here, now, in front of this insignificant man, she's terrified.

I've been told that Nikki and I share a lot of characteristics. Maybe it's because of that, I understand that for Nikki's her father is her Laura Sidle. I haven't even put a lot of thought towards facing Laura Sidle's grave. The fear from the very idea of it pushes me away from considering it too long. In the end, I may have conquered Laura Sidle, but it broke me. It left me broken, and I'd probably still be that way without Nikki as my solid ground.

"That's good, Nicole," her father doesn't sound proud but I don't think Nikki was aiming to make him proud.

"You were wrong. I was able survive without you," she tells him, her voice shaking slightly but the words staying clear.

His eyes narrow slightly. "I'm glad you're doing better." Again, he doesn't sound too proud. "What is it you want from me?"

Briefly I wonder if I had been given a chance to talk to my grandparents again if I would take it. Would I put myself through this? Would their words be the same towards me as Nikki's parents' are towards her? Would they act like I was the one that had wronged them?

I don't have the answers, and I won't ever get them. I won't ever have an opportunity, nightmare, like this open for me to take, but Nikki does have it. This is her moment, where she can yell and scream her rage and feelings of injustice at them. She can show them she's not the child they created, but the woman she fought and strained to become.

Her father doesn't need to be proud of her. His pride doesn't matter, but mine does, and I am proud of her. I'm overwhelmingly proud of her. I've seen her change from the strung out woman I met at some party to the incredible force of life that helps keep me alive.

"You failed to break me." Nikki must find some more courage buried inside of her to bring out, because she breaks her hold on me and closes the distance between her and her father. "And I'm not going to let you get the chance to try and break anyone else." She starts reading him his Miranda rights, and I don't know who in this room is more surprised at hearing them.

A quick glance over at her mother lets me know the woman is too frozen to even begin to protest. She doesn't even look like she's breathing, and doesn't look like she's going to try and do anything anytime soon. This must be a familiar sensation for her then. She has to be used to rolling over and playing dead by now. She got a lot of practice at it while Nikki was being raped by that putrid man.

Some overly rational part of my brain kicks in and wants me to share with Nikki that her arrest won't count in court. Nikki is out of her jurisdiction, and I'm pretty sure that there's something on the books about arresting one's own father. Everything that Nikki is doing now: her pushing her father against a wall and searching him, her asking him about guns and narcotics, none of it is for real. This is all for nothing. It won't hold up in court, but I'm pretty sure that seeing her father looking so scared, pathetic, and small right now is worth the charges being dismissed.

I maintain my silence and am only broken out of it when I finally notice Nikki's mother taking some sort of action. She's reached out for the phone and she's calling 911. I see no real point in stopping her. Nikki's father is probably has some overly expensive lawyer and I'm sure he won't let Nikki making him look like a complete fool go. His past doesn't speak towards his favor in being able to let his humiliation slide.

Nikki hears her mother on the phone and turns towards her. She doesn't seem too bothered by the prospect of local officers showing up on her parents' doorstep. She returns her attention to her father, who she now has in cuffs. She grabs onto his right arm and pushes him towards the front door. Realizing her intent, I hurry and re-open the front door so that she can effectively push him out of it.

It only takes a few moments for the local police to arrive, and when they do, Nikki has her father sitting on his own porch with cuffs on, face red with anger, and pride fully impaired. Unfortunately, before Nikki can fully explain the situation, her mother starts screaming about how Nikki and I attacked her husband. Next thing I know, I'm put in cuffs and I'm being asked to explain what's happened. I don't open my mouth; Nikki's the one that needs to tell this story.

The officers give Nikki her chance and she explains to them pretty much everything there is to say. She tells them that her father raped her as a child and that it was about time he was arrested for it. They ask her if she really does want to press charges, if they can even do it. Nikki looks at me.

I can't tell her what to do. My revenge towards my abuser led me to a much darker place than where this can ever go. It'd be hard, though, going through a trial. We'd have to stay in California until things were settled. Chances are that Nikki wouldn't even get a conviction. So much time has passed and there are too many holes in Nikki's story to make a solid case.

"Let him go," she tells the officers. "I'm finished with him."

They ask her if she's sure, she says that she is, then asks them to take the cuffs I've had on me for the last ten minutes. They take mine off before they take off Nikki's father's. Nikki once again walks up to me placing her arms around my body. She doesn't say anything, I'm not sure she even has anything left to say. I know that I wouldn't. Well, I might find something to say to her mother for spinning a really tall tale to the police, but Nikki and I are different in a lot of ways too.

As soon as her father is released, he goes back into his home. He doesn't look over at Nikki and doesn't even look over at his wife who so readily leapt to his defense, when she couldn't even find it in her to leap to her daughter's. I don't know why I'm so affected by the lack of her mother's actions. My mother… I mean my grandmother, wasn't really that supportive of me. I'm used to seeing parents not protecting their children.

Nikki's mother turns to us. "Hopefully you came and got what you wanted, Nicole." This doesn't sound like a reprimand. It almost sounds genuine, disturbingly genuine. It sounds like there's hope for something to grow from this, if Nikki wants to start planting any seeds.

I let those seeds be planted with my biological father, someone I haven't even bothered to think about in any detail these last couple of days. The long conversation I had with Mom about her choosing to be my mother didn't even spur me to think about the man who proudly calls me his daughter and I ashamedly call my biological father. The seeds that have been planted between us really haven't gone anywhere, and I wasn't even there to suffer his abuse. I didn't have to stare him in the face.

Nikki got to stare at her mother, though. She got to look right at her while everything was happening. I guess it's almost equivalent to me forgiving my grandfather for sitting by and letting Laura abuse me. I don't think I could do it.

Again, I feel arms dropping from around me and Nikki moving from behind me. I don't turn to see what she's doing because I don't trust the woman standing in front of us. I'm not entirely sure she won't try and get me arrested again.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Nikki's arm thrust forward. In her hand is what looks like a receipt. "This is my number and address," Nikki says as her mother tentatively reaches out for the slick crumbled paper. "If you want to use either one of them, you're welcome to. I live in Las Vegas with Mel now."

Her mother's eyes capture mine as soon as Nikki's words have ended. "Mel."

Nikki turns back to me, clearly unsure of what I'm going to do now that my name has passed over her mother's lips. I immediately push back the disgust that hearing her voice address me causes. Some part of me will have to find sympathy for this woman simply because Nikki has already offered up her own. I've always believed Nikki to be a much stronger and better person than I am, so I guess it's time I let her inspire me to be better, too. "Mrs. Andreason."

I don't know what saying that woman's name is an admission to, but Nikki's gaze is thankful that I made that small effort. Her mother gives me a slight nod then turns away from us both. She walks back to her house into the anger that is surely waiting there for her.

The police officers that have hung around are now readying to go. I was sort of hoping I could have watched them drag Nikki's father away, but I'll support Nikki's decision. This is her past to settle. She starts back to my car and I follow her. I settle myself back into the driver's seat allowing Nikki the pleasure of staring out the window as we pass the scenery by, and give her the chance to do all the deep analytical thinking that seems to plague me with every action that I take. It's my turn to offer once more, my continued silence.


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimers in first chapter**

**Chapter 18**

As I shut off the car's engine in the hotel's parking lot, I'm ashamed to admit even to myself that I don't want to see my family. I don't want to face Mom or Catherine. I don't even want to pretend to be happy that Lindsey is around either. All I want, all I feel I even need right now, is to let Nikki curl up into my arms. I just want to try and convince her that everything that just happened with her parents actually meant something more than the pain I've seen residing inside of her during our entire drive back to this place.

She needs to know that it meant something, even though I'm not sure what that something is. I'm almost positive that it's connected to personal growth and conquering demons, but I wouldn't know how to explain it. I don't understand it, not really. It's still a new concept for me.

"Do you think I should have given my mother my phone number?" Nikki hasn't made a move to exit the car, and there's no way I'm going to try and get out first. She's the one that's going to have to tell me it's okay to go back to what's waiting for us inside of the hotel.

Right now, she seems like she's not ready for that. She is, however, ready to talk about what's just happened, so it's my turn to consider her words and offer her what answers I can. I actually have to think about whether I would, under any circumstance, have offered Nikki's mother a phone number that was actually real, and deep down I know that I wouldn't have. But, there is that possibility that I hate Nikki's mother more than she does. I was never misled into believing that I needed to love her. Hate is the first thing I've ever felt for Nikki's mother and I suspect that it will also be the last.

"I don't think I should answer that."

Nikki finally turns away from the passenger side window and looks at me. "Do you remember when Laura got sick that one time?"

I nod; already not liking the way Nikki is going to use my own past to justify her current actions. I'd rather just think that the two things are separate and can never relate. It's easier to defend my actions when someone else isn't trying to use my own misguided rationale.

"You didn't have to care for her," Nikki tells me softly. "You could have let her suffer until she died and I'm not sure your grandfather would have even cared."

He didn't care. I think a part of him wanted to see my grandmother gone for good. There had to be some part of him that wanted to escape from the cycle that we had all been stuck in for too long already. He was ready to let go, but I, foolishly, held on. It's not something I've decided that I regret, not yet; especially since it turns out I was responsible for her death anyway.

"I'd watch you caring for her," Nikki reaches over and lays her hand over mine, "and all I wanted to do every time you left the room was smother her with a pillow."

I'm too surprised to not laugh at her confession. I thought she was going to say something about my compassion and inability to turn my back on the woman who had tortured me for my whole life. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be laughing."

"No," Nikki squeezes my hand, a smile finally able to reappear on her face again, "you should laugh."

I bow my head, somewhat ashamed with what I'm going to tell her. "I thought about smothering her too, or poisoning her soup. Part of me really hoped that the pneumonia would kill her. I didn't really want her to survive."

"Neither did I," Nikki softly admits. "If I was sure that no part of you loved her at all, then I probably would have killed her for what she did to you."

I open my mouth to protest Nikki's claim at me ever caring for my grandmother, but the fingers she puts against my lips lets me know my denial would be ignored. "I only tolerated Laura Sidle's existence because she meant something to you. That's the only reason I tolerated your grandfather's as well." She drops her fingers from my lips and is now looking at me expectantly.

Okay, so her point has been made. She knows I hate her mother and wants a real answer to her question. "Then in that case, I think there might be a slim chance for you to reconnect with your mother. I saw something in her eyes." Nikki accepts my answer with a slight nod. It seems like I've been able to confirm something for her. "But what I saw," I add with a smirk, making it clear to Nikki that I'm only joking, "could have been her leftover joy at trying to have me arrested."

"I wouldn't say it's not possible." Nikki took my comment a lot more seriously than I intended. I thought it was okay that I hated her mother. "She called you a whore."

"But she said that I'm your whore," I grab onto her hand, "so that makes everything better."

She tries to fight it, but a smile does manage to creep back onto her face. She shakes her head a little, then releases a heavy sigh. "I can't believe we even went to see them."

That's what it's supposed to be like isn't it? I'm still trying to believe that I talked my mother into getting in a car to come back to California. "But it was worth it," I say softly. "You do know that don't you? It was important."

"Yeah," Nikki's voice catches, "I know."

"Good." I lean forward and press a soft kiss against her lips. When I pull away and look back into her eyes, I can tell that she's pushing all the high-emotion away from the forefront of her mind. I wish I could tell her to not push it away and to not bury it deep down, but I know that she has to. She has to be able to function, and letting the pain run loose in her head would hinder that.

We both have to be able to walk into the hotel.

"Are you ready to go inside?" she asks me, even though it's probably me who should be asking her that question.

"If we don't go in, then eventually they would come out." I'm surprised no one has even tried to call us yet. We had told them we would be going out, but I'm sure they didn't expect for us to be gone the entire night and well into the next morning.

Nikki pulls away from me and opens the car door. Part of me resents her actions, but once again she's just helping to push me in a direction I need to go anyway. We can't sit in the car forever, and I'm not insane enough to try and run away.

We get out of the car, and walk back to the hotel room that had been reserved for us. When we walk into the room, Catherine is sitting on the solitary bed with Lindsey and they are watching something on the television. Catherine looks over Nikki and me, probably checking for any obvious ailments or injuries. "You could have called," she says, although it doesn't sound as harsh as it probably could. She's giving us some leeway and consideration.

"Mom said if you were gone another hour she was going to call the police," Lindsey helpfully informs us. "I told her that if the police knew where you were it was because you probably got arrested."

"Lindsey," Catherine warns her daughter.

"Well," Nikki smirks at Catherine, "Mel almost was arrested."

Accusing eyes look straight at me. "What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," I quickly defend myself.

"Didn't attack someone did you?" Lindsey's interest is now solely on me instead of the television. "You've been arrested for that before," she helpfully adds.

"What happened?" Catherine asks, obviously intent on hearing an answer.

"We went to see my parents," Nikki starts to explain but doesn't get a chance to finish because Catherine is off the bed within a millisecond and making her way towards us asking me if I attacked Nikki's parents. "No, she didn't," Nikki answers for me. "It's a long story," she uncomfortably scratches at her face, "but…things worked out."

Worked out? That's a gross over-generalization that I don't think I could have even come up with as an explanation of what happened this morning. My description would probably tend to float somewhere in the realm of, 'don't wanna talk about it', which I could only hope Catherine would accept as an answer, and she probably wouldn't. So perhaps, it's best that Nikki has opted to do the explaining for now.

"I didn't think you were going to do that," Catherine doesn't seem too happy with Nikki's revelation either. Maybe I should have tried explaining it my way. "We talked about this." She spares a quick glance at me, her eyes full of concern. She looks like she has more to say, but just doesn't want to say it because I'm standing in the room.

From what little Nikki has told me about her trip here with Catherine and Lindsey, there seems to have been a few warnings Catherine gave about how Nikki should interact with me. She's put herself out as an expert on me and my reactions, but I don't think she is. I think there's a possibility that she's confused me for my mother. I'm not so stupid as to not see our similarities. This time I've been spending with her here has only highlighted them even more for me. I see my mother's insecurities and can see them reflected in me. But it's not right for Catherine to mistake me for my mother. We're still two separate people, our actions and responses independent of the other's.

"Nikki and I talked about it too," I stand up just a little bit taller, needing my greater physical presence to supplement my weaker internal fortitude. "We, together, decided to do it."

Defiant isn't a word that I think Catherine would normally use to describe my attitude towards her. It's my relationship with Mom that reeks with defiance, but I am being defiant now. My posture suggests it, and so does the tone of my voice. Catherine doesn't miss these signals, because she steps back from me, places her hands on her hips, and looks more than ready for battle.

Seeing her like this, makes me wonder how Lindsey can keep up her constant will to contend almost all of her mother's rules. I remember the first time Catherine actually told me to do something. I think it was over something as trivial as putting on sweats over my basketball uniform. I did it because I was shocked she was telling me to do something, at least, that's how I rationalized it at the time but it was more than just shock. Plenty of people have tried, and failed, to get me to do trivial things, but what made it different coming from Catherine was that some part of me trusted her with my welfare. I always have trusted her with it. I probably gave it to her during my plane ride to Las Vegas. I needed to give it to someone and Mom didn't fit the bill at the time.

I don't know why I felt compelled to give that trust away, but I did, and I realize now that I never did quite manage to give that to Mom. That's why I can stand in front of my mother, full of defiant outrage and arrogant righteousness, and that's perhaps why now I feel about two feet tall trying to do the same in front of Catherine.

Turns out, Nikki wasn't the only one who was given the chance to collect her thoughts during the long drive back here. The silence gave me plenty of opportunity to think about more than the road ahead of me. It probably even contributed to my growing reluctance to come back to the hotel, because I couldn't pretend like I didn't understand why my mother was upset about my relationship with Catherine, especially not now that it made sense to me.

"Did you think about what could have happened?" Catherine accusingly asks me. "Did you think about what would have happened if you couldn't have handled it?"

"But Mom," the sounds of Lindsey's voice surprises me, "Mel did handle it." Her coming to my defense surprises me a little more. "I thought you trusted her."

"Lindsey," Catherine turns to her daughter, "you don't understand what's going on."

"Stop telling me that!" Lindsey jumps off of the bed and bravely steps in front of her mother. "I do understand. I've always understood."

"Lindsey," Catherine sighs out her name obviously not willing to argue about something she's apparently already made her mind up about, "there's a lot going on here and Mel isn't…"

"Mel is standing right here, Mom." Maybe Lindsey should be the one to voice my defiance to Catherine from now on. She seems to be better at it than me.

"I don't want to talk about this now," Catherine rubs at her forehead. "I'm going to go check on Sara." She walks past Nikki and me to the door, pulling it open violently and stepping through it. I consider chasing after her, but reconsider it as soon as I see Nikki making her way towards the door. She'll chase down Catherine and they can have it out over whatever they consider to be best for me.

Lindsey and I are left to stand and stare at each other. My mind quickly flashes back to the painting she did that is as a small tribute to my life. I've been her sister for a few years now, and I already understand she's a lot smarter than her mother gives her credit for at times. Mom even sees it. She and Lindsey are…close. Lindsey isn't as defiant with Mom.

"Thank you." I'd like to say more, but since I'm a little shocked right now, I'd probably only manage to say words that make no sense. 'Thank' and 'you' are easy words that my tongue doesn't have problems with forcing out clearly.

Lindsey shrugs as she shifts her stance and turns her gaze to the floor. "You're my big sister. I have to stand up for you, y'know?"

No, I don't know. I don't understand it at all. It's too foreign for me to understand, but that doesn't mean I don't appreciate it. Even if I don't think that I fully deserve it. But perhaps I could start earning it. "So, how are you doing? I mean, this is all sort of crazy isn't it?"

Lindsey rolls her eyes. "Mom's been freaking out. I think she's about to blow her top."

"Yeah," I rub at the back of my neck, trying to wipe away a bit of the tension that's forming in my muscles, "some of that is probably my fault."

"Mom slept in here with me last night, Mel," Lindsey confesses. "She didn't stay with Sara."

I'm betting that it's safe for me to assume that Catherine stayed with Lindsey not so much because she was worried about Lindsey sleeping alone, but because she couldn't sleep with Mom. "There's a lot going on with them."

Lindsey uncomfortably shifts her stance again. "How do we help them?"

The raw anguish in her voice triggers me to move forward. I wrap my arms around her smaller frame and pull her towards me, taking an action I should have taken a long time ago. Part of me thinks that last night I should have made the effort and stayed around to make sure that Lindsey was okay. I knew that she was alone here, with no one emotionally capable of seeing to her emotional well-being. We all walked away from her, turned our heads and covered our eyes.

"There's nothing we can do, Lindsey," I whisper. "It's up to them."

Lindsey pushes herself away from me. She looks angry. "You're just going to give up? I thought you actually cared about us!"

Whoa. I thought that me caring had already been established earlier in this conversation. The hug was supposed to reinforce my caring and concern. "I do care Lindsey, but I don't control them."

"You kept them together before," she softly tells me, "even if you don't know you did it."

"What are you talking about?"

"They were fighting before you came," she confesses, "but stopped when you showed up."

I run both my hands through my hair and release a heavy sigh. "I don't think they ever stopped, Linds. I just think they hid it better." Lindsey turns away from me, but I won't let that stop me from telling her the truth. "I think they were probably afraid that if I overheard them fighting then it would make things worse for me. They would just give me something else to be angry about, and I was already angry enough."

"But they stayed together for you," Lindsey argues, her back still turned. "They won't do that for me."

Fuck. I just feel like I've been shot in the chest and stabbed in the back at the same time. I take a look around us, more than a little uncomfortable with the fact that we're still the only two people in this room. It's time for someone else to take over this conversation, and lead it around to a positive one that can end in smiles and hugs. Shouldn't Catherine be standing here making sure that her daughter feels worth something? Mom and Lindsey have a close relationship, where's Mom now? Why am I standing here alone, completely unprepared and helpless? Why can't I be better?

"You should be thankful they won't do it for you." All I have to offer right now is the truth. "It's like they forced themselves to stay together to fucking fix me." I probably shouldn't be cursing, but she's old enough to hear it. "Things were so mixed up that they even thought about separating just to make things better for me. They were desperate, Lindsey. They didn't know what to do. It's good that they're trying to do things for themselves instead of for me, because having their lives rest on my shoulders has been a lot of fucking pressure!"

Lindsey turns back around to face me. There are tears in her eyes. "What?"

"You were just witness to it, Lindsey." I gesture my right hand around and eventually point at the door behind me. "Everything that our parents do is dependent on whether I'm sinking or swimming that day. If I'm just a little bit outside of being okay then everything stops." I take a few deep breaths, unwilling to lose control. "You see it Lindsey, because you just stood up against it."

"Mel," she starts walking towards me but I take a step back.

"I'm afraid," I stumble over my words. "I wake up every day afraid that I won't be able to help keep this family alive, because if I falter everyone else follows me." If I could be a superhero, I'd try to save me from myself. I shouldn't have said any of this to Lindsey. I should have just stood firm and told her that everything was going to be okay. That's probably all she really needed and all that she was seeking. I should have given her that.

Lindsey crosses her arms in front of her and I can see that her hands are shaking. She's not letting her tears fall, but I can see them ready to, straining to be released. "Do you remember when I snuck out of the house to go to a party and you chased after me?"

"Of course," I smile. It was the first time I was able to go out on my own in a while to solve a problem without anyone looking over my shoulder. I didn't have a lot of confidence in me succeeding, but I did. I held it together to get Lindsey back.

"After I told Mom about it she and Sara told me that what I had done was dangerous," she tightens her arms around herself, "and then they grounded me. They never really explained to me what was going on with you."

"It was really hard to explain," I don't know why I'm defending them. Especially after the long confession I just gave to Lindsey about the pressures they've put on me—unknowingly hopefully.

"You explained it to me," Lindsey looks away from me. "You always explained things to me. You'd even talk to me about my dad." Where is she going with this? Are we still arguing? Were we ever arguing? "That's why I trust you to help Mom."

"Help her what?" I thought I just got through making my point that I can't fix Catherine's relationship with my mother.

"Help her survive losing Sara." Lindsey's plea is so genuine that I'm not sure she's not talking to someone else.

Once again, I breach the distance between me and my sister. I wrap my arms around her and don't let her refuse my hold. Her arms drop down between us, but eventually they worm themselves around my body. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that," Let's more than hope, because I'm not so sure that I'll be able to prove that Lindsey's trust in me was well placed.

"I'm glad you're here," she whispers into my shoulder as she squeezes her arms around me cutting off my flow of oxygen just a little.

I choose not to point out to her that I'm the one that everyone was coming here to rescue. This is my chance to do what I should have done before. "Things will work out." I'm at least sure that things between Nikki and me are going to move in the right direction. I'm even feeling more secure about my relationship with Lindsey. I'm completely lost when it comes to Mom and Catherine, but this doesn't need to be voiced. Now's not the time to let Lindsey in on the well known secret, that I'm really just a stranded soul doing the best I can to not fall back into Hell, now that I've been pulled out of it. She doesn't need to know that I'm terrified, that if Catherine falls apart she'll take the rest of us down with her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimers in Previous Chapters**

**INNER PEACE**

**Chapter 19**

Lindsey fell asleep shortly after our conversation. I don't think she's been able to get a lot of sleep lately, since she seems so dead to the world right now. Someone could come barging into the room with a sledgehammer and I'm almost certain that Lindsey would stay asleep. She's curled up against my body, trusting me to look out for her. I'm starting to get the feeling that she wants me to protect her. She's chosen me to be the one to turn to for support. She must be desperate.

I'd like to sit here and wait for her to wake up, but my body feels like moving. I haven't gotten a lot of sleep lately either, but I'm not feeling tired. I feel more like pacing back and forth for a while or taking a long run. My knee is still sore from its war with the tree yesterday, so running around and moving too much is still out. I don't want to damage myself further. Now wouldn't be the time to ask someone to drive me to the hospital, again.

Carefully, I remove Lindsey from my body, holding my breath the entire time. She curls up against a pillow, not waking and my body is finally free again to move around as much as it wants to. Since Nikki hasn't come back yet from going after Catherine, I guess I could try and chase her down to make sure that they survived their scene unscathed. I'm reluctant to leave Lindsey again, but I do need to know what's going on with everyone else. Hopefully, I'll be back before Lindsey wakes up.

I make my way down the hotel hallway, trying to remember what room number my parents are supposed to be staying in. My brain doesn't come up with the number, but it doesn't need to because the yelling I hear through one particular door lets me know where they are. The yelling is also something I don't want to involve myself in right now, so I position myself outside of the door and slide down the wall to the floor. I'll knock when the voices don't sound so angry.

"Fuck your way, Catherine," I hear Nikki's voice scream, "it's not working." I don't think I've ever heard Nikki yell at Catherine like that. I know that I've never yelled at Catherine like that. It seems like everyone has found a backbone to stand up to Catherine with, except me.

"How would you even know?" Catherine's voice rejoins.

"I have eyes and a brain to think with." I can barely hear Nikki's response. She's apparently decided not to yell anymore. She sounds tired. "I know this is hard for you, but you've got to let Mel and me deal with this on our own."

"So you're just ready to risk her completely losing it again?" Catherine doesn't seem to want to stop the yelling. "You weren't around for the first time when it happened, Nikki. You can't even imagine what that's like."

Fighting about me again, I see. This seems to be a common theme with the people who hang around me for any extended amount of time. They always see me as being on the brink of losing my sanity, but I think I've done a pretty good job of holding onto it thus far, and surprisingly I don't feel it slipping through my fingers now.

Nikki says something, but I can't quite catch it since she's still keeping her voice down. The only part I can catch is, "If it's going to happen then it's going to happen. Neither of us would be strong enough to stop it."

"You may not care if you lose her," Catherine sounds like she's crying now, "but I do. I always have and I'm not just going to let go because you think it would be a good idea."

I bring my knees up to my chest, drop my head back against the wall and close my eyes. I can still hear the sounds of their voices, but I don't bother to try and decipher the words. This argument may be about me, but I don't want to be involved in it.

The feeling of someone sliding down the wall next to me rips my eyes open and has me jumping away. When my eyes focus, I see my mother chuckling down at me. "You could have given me some warning," I tell her retaking my position against the wall.

"I thought you would have heard me coming down the hall." She joins me on the floor; I guess not too willing to walk inside the room with Nikki and Catherine either.

I grunt out something that sounds like it's trying to be a laugh. "You're overestimating my powers of observation."

Mom nods but doesn't say anything. We maintain silence as Catherine's voice yells out, "I've already lost so much of her and I don't want to lose anymore."

Mom and I look at each other. I can tell she's working the words through her brain like I am. It was an odd thing for Catherine to say about me. She hasn't lost me at all. I'd like to think that we're relatively close considering all the factors that go into our relationship.

I focus on Mom's eyes, and she looks almost severely unhappy. Nikki and Catherine aren't fighting over me. I did not inspire them to have this argument. The fact I feel happy about this probably isn't something I should mention to my mother, since it would seem they're arguing over her. "So, why aren't you in there with them?" I try and ask casually, keeping my voice low so that neither of the women inside realizes they are being overheard. Although, they should at least expect that some people would have overheard them since they are screaming so loud and the walls don't really seem to be that thick.

"I left before it started," our eyes stay locked on one another. Not even breaking contact as Nikki accuses Catherine of letting fear control her.

"Do you want me to starting offering my personal observations about your behavior or should I keep quiet?"

"If I felt like fighting," Mom releases a sigh, "then I'd be in there with them."

"Good," I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes again.

I hear movement next to me, but don't open my eyes to see what my mother is doing. "I already know I've been an ass."

I chuckle a bit. "Don't be so hard on yourself," I open my eyes, but only to seek out my mother's shoulder so that I can lean my head against it. "I've had a few moments of ass-ness myself."

Mom puts an arm around me so that I'm balanced against her body and don't fall over. "But you were out with Nikki all night. Catherine and I didn't stay in the same room together for more than two hours."

"Did you try talking?" I ask, closing my eyes again. Seeking what comfort I can manage while sitting in the middle of a hallway against a hotel room's door.

"It didn't work." Her fingers brush against my face and I feel her tuck a few strands of my hair behind my ear.

"Did you try drinking alcohol before you started talking?" I ask, trying to hold back the yawn that is trying to force itself out of me.

"Is that what I was doing wrong?" Mom sounds amused.

"I recommend Vodka." I move closer to her body. "You need ambiance too, but be prepared to agree to things others might highly object to, like taking a midnight drive out to Catherine's parents."

"You went out to see Nikki's parents?" I guess Mom doesn't think I'm speaking solely in the hypothetical.

"Yeah," My arm goes across Mom's waist. "They're really fucked up people," I say softly.

"Why'd you do that alone, Mel?" Mom gently asks me.

I try to shrug but only succeed in pushing my cheek uncomfortably against Mom's shoulder bone. "Nikki needed me to."

"Are you doing okay?" Mom tightens her hold on me.

"When I got back Catherine yelled at me for it and then I think I got in an argument with Lindsey." I don't know why I'm telling her all of this, but I guess she'll find out about it all eventually. "Lindsey wants me to fix everything. She thinks I can."

My eyes are closed but that doesn't mean my tears can't escape. I can feel them drop onto mom's black t-shirt. I'm almost compelled to push off the responsibility Lindsey has tried to hand down to me over to my mother. I want to tell her that she should be the one to fix everything. She needs to be the one to go back to Lindsey and be the protector that Lindsey wants me to be.

"I've realized something, Mel," Mom's voice sounds strained. "Baby, we've just got to keep working on our problems even if they never get solved."

I don't think those words are making me feel better. They're not curing me of the sudden weight of responsibility that has been handed down to me by a girl who only became my sister a few years ago. That just means that we're all alone, trying to seek out a single ray of hope that things might get better. That's depressing.

"We're just a fraction in the world, Mel." Is she trying to explain to me some mathematical problem? I don't want to do math problems about my weight in the world or the universe. I'm not into thinking about higher meaning or higher power. I just need to know that I'm not supposed to do this on my own. "I don't know what's going to happen between Catherine and me. I can't offer any promises."

I raise my head and open my eyes. "But you're going to try the Vodka, right?" It's a joke, a bad joke but it's all I have. I can't offer her any promises either. I can just try and make her smile since we're obviously so depressed.

"For some reason," Mom smirks, "I don't think Catherine would enjoy me drinking Vodka."

"Oh? Is that whole alcoholism thing still bothering her?" I can't believe we're even joking about this. We must have finally lost our minds. Who jokes about their mother being an alcoholic?

"Yeah, can you believe she didn't forget about that? You'd think me making out with someone else would make her forget." Who jokes about kind of cheating on their partner? What kind of people even try and have a conversation like this as their lovers are fighting in the room behind them? We are so going to Hell. I'm pretty sure that the hand basket is already made and ready with our names on it.

"Then I guess you're just stuck with trying to sacrifice yourself by talking." I can only hope that talking doesn't end up being the death of her, well the death of them both actually. It doesn't seem like it worked out so well for them last night.

"Is that what worked for you and Nikki?" Mom asks and the hint of trying to make a joke has been removed from her voice. This is a genuine question. She wants to know how to make things better. She's asking me to help her fix things much like Lindsey did.

"Nikki and I aren't better yet," I slide around on the floor so that my body is facing my mother's. "We're talking to each other, we're even saying things that mean something as we talk, but we're not better."

"You can stay in the same room with each other." Mom looks at the door next to us. The voices inside have calmed, I can hardly hear anything they're saying anymore.

"We don't explode like you and Cath, Mom. Nikki and I implode into each other. We're never smart enough to try and run away." We can't seem to bring ourselves to fight each other face to face. At least I'm too much of a coward to try. We carry on with our pain in silence, too afraid of losing each other to address the piles of problems that surround us. Talking about it is actually a step forward for us.

"I shouldn't be talking to you about this," Mom starts staring at the door across from us. Hopefully, whoever is staying in that room isn't in there now or, at the very least, can sleep through an earthquake. Although, I'm sure if someone was irritated by all the yelling they would have made a call to the front desk by now.

"Maybe you shouldn't be." I'm pretty sure that she shouldn't be, but I am an adult. The time for her to protect me and act like there really isn't so much evil in the world is pretty much over. It ended before I even got a chance to meet her. "I think we went about our relationship the wrong way when I came to Las Vegas."

Talking about this with her is a risk. I don't know if she's ready to talk about this. I don't know if it's even important to mention anymore. We're trying to build something new, that's what we've been doing this whole trip. At least, I think that's been part of this trip.

"I think we went about a lot of things wrong when you came to live with me." She doesn't sound upset. That's good.

"We should have tried to become friends first."

A burst of laughter tears itself out of her at my admission, and I can't find it in me to be offended by her reaction. If she had said that to me, I probably would have laughed too. "I'm sorry," she apologizes, her eyes showing her regret at her outburst.

"No," I shake my head, "don't apologize because the concept is funny. I can't really imagine what my response would have been if you had suddenly sat me down and said you wanted for us to be friends."

Mom looks confused. "Then what made you come up with the idea?"

"Because I think it would have eventually worked. We've been trying to jump into a relationship neither of us is ready for." The bridges that might have been built between us have long since been flooded by the continued contention that rests between us. We never tried building something; we just tried to continue a relationship that didn't really exist in the first place.

"We did the best we could, Mel." Mom doesn't seem too upset about my admission. She looks like she might even agree with me.

"I know and we did a damn good job at it too," I smile, letting her know that the way I think things should have been doesn't mean I regret what we've managed to accomplish. "But let's be real, you weren't ready for me to suddenly come live with you. You weren't ready for a full-time daughter."

"Was it that obvious?"

"When you came out to California and brought me back, you looked like a frightened bunny rabbit facing off with a wolf and I was the wolf."

Mom starts laughing again, and this time I join her. If anyone came walking down the hallway right now and saw us, they probably would assume we've been drinking. This is so surreal. Usually, conversation doesn't come so easy when it comes to us. We struggle through our sentences and pay careful attention to our words so that nothing unexpected comes out. We're very careful around each other.

"So what is it you want now?" Mom asks me as our laughter subsides.

"You're my mother," of course she already knows that because she was there for my birth, "that's never going to change and I don't want it to change." She looks a little shocked by my admission. Maybe she was expecting me to tell her that I did want it to change, although I'm not sure how that can happen. I can't change my DNA. "So, now that we've got that relationship down a little, I'd like to try and be your friend."

Mom looks like I've just turned into a penguin that suddenly gained the ability to speak English. "You okay, Mom?"

"Yeah," Mom manages to say, "I just didn't expect that. I never even thought you'd ever forgive me enough to ask me something like that."

Is that a sign of my forgiveness? I never thought that it would be. It just makes sense to me for us to try and be something a little different for a while. She's always going to be my mother; neither of us is ever going to be able to change that. I'm always going to be her daughter and she's always going to be my mother. That's just the way biology and DNA works. We have to choose to hang out enough together to try and be friends.

"Well, I am asking it and it's something that I want." It's too late for her to try and raise me. I'm pretty much raised. I don't need a mother for that, and honestly, Catherine pretty much fills up most of the maternal looking after that I require. I don't have a lot of friends though; don't really have any anymore actually. I've sort of been a little bit of a recluse lately, more focused on my studies than on the other people around me.

"Does that mean you're going to stop calling me, Mom?"

"Pretty sure it won't work out like that." I haven't called her Sara in a while, and just calling her that in my head sounds strange now. "You're always going to be Mom."

She takes in a deep breath. "Okay," she breathes out, "we can try this friend idea you have."

"Good," I smile at her trying to show her that I'm enthused by this new direction we've decided to take in our relationship, but I think I'm just accomplishing looking a little bit like an idiot because Mom's starting to laugh at me. "Why are you laughing?"

"You don't look comfortable trying to be enthusiastic," she doesn't hesitate to tell me.

"Yeah well," the smile drops from my face. I lean my body back against the door, now completely unable to hear anything Nikki and Catherine might be saying to each other.

Mom leans back next to me. "Mel, I don't think your theory about Vodka actually works," she tells me as she settles her body next to mine, once again offering me a shoulder to rest my head on. "We managed an entire conversation without drinking alcohol."

My head goes back on her shoulder and I position my body comfortably against hers. "Maybe it's not universal."

"No," she whispers, "I think it's just you that makes the difference."

"Okay," it's not an agreement, but I'm not in the mood to outright disagree with her right now, because there's no way she's right about that. I'm not good at talking with people. I get angry quickly and I usually don't care to listen to what other people have to say. I never even know what the right thing to say is half of the time.

I don't think I'm ever really right. I just keep on going, convinced that if I stop then everyone else will too. Maybe that isn't right of me or them, but it's the way things are for now. So, for now I'll keep on moving forward, because Mom was right: we have to keep on working on our problems and risk the chance of never being able to solve them. Maybe, I've just come in contact with some form of a constant human condition…whatever that means.


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimers in previous chapters**

**Chapter 20**

By the time Nikki comes storming outside of my parents' hotel room, Mom and I have grown so bored with waiting that we're on our thirtieth match of Rock-Paper-Scissors, already having given up on Thumb War since Mom claimed the game was unfair because I had a bigger hand and therefore had an unfair advantage. Nikki manages to stop her forward movement before she barrels over me, but I've still managed to ruin the effect of her dramatic exit.

"What are you doing?" She asks her voice firm.

"Just waiting for you and Cath to settle things." I drop my hand away from the Rock position it's been in.

Nikki gives me a disapproving look and I can tell she thinks we were sitting out here intentionally listening in on their conversation, not that their conversation was exactly private since I'm pretty sure that every person staying on this floor got let in on more than a few of the words that were passing between them.

"I didn't want to interrupt," I defend myself against Nikki's unvoiced reprimand. "Plus, Mom and I were just out here talking about some things." Our talking almost made it so that I wasn't paying attention to the conversation Nik was having with Catherine, anyway. I guess I'm not so good at having sensitive conversations with my mother while covertly listening in on another sensitive chat. I'm just not talented in that way.

Before Nikki can respond, Catherine comes over to us with her arms crossed in front of her, not looking any happier than she did when she stormed away from me the last time. I guess I should be thankful that her attention is focused on Mom instead of me. "So," Catherine's voice is a lot calmer than her body language suggests it should be, "you finally decided to come back."

Mom shoots a quick look at me and while I wish I could help her out, I just can't. Catherine and I still have some unsettled emotions between us and I wouldn't even know how to go about letting those be expressed right now. The coward's way would be to just go and bring Lindsey back out to try and settle it for me, but I'm honest enough with myself to know that I won't allow Lindsey to act as my shield. She doesn't deserve to be put into that sort of situation…again.

"I don't want to argue about this right now," Mom tells Catherine but she's still looking at me. So, I look away because I'm not going to be talked through. My attention goes to Nikki because I'm feeling the most comfortable with her right now. She might yell at me later for sitting outside this hotel room but at least I know she's not going to get in a yelling match with me about emotional stuff right now. She's too wiped out for that sort of conversation.

Catherine ignores my mother. "Where's your sister?" She asks me, almost like she's accusing me of something heinous and foul. It makes me wonder if she's talking about Lindsey or some other person she might call my sister that I don't know about.

"Lindsey?" I make a guess since she's the only sister that I have, even though it's not legally recognized. I probably have more legal say in the life of the biological sister my non-father is parent to than I do when it comes to Lindsey. I wonder if there's some way we can rectify that.

"Melinda," the way my name falls from Catherine's lips lets me know that there's plenty of disappointment being directed at me right now.

"She was taking a nap." I hurry to explain even though I should probably try and at least stand up for myself. I'm not quite sure what I'd be standing up for, though. "I may be wrong, but I don't think she got a lot of sleep last night."

I'm not necessarily blaming Catherine for that, but I'm pretty sure that Catherine could be at least partially blamed for it. She's the one that went into Lindsey's room after some fight supposedly happened with Mom. I can't pretend to know everything that happened after Nikki and I left, but I do know that Lindsey was crying to me about it. I do know that Lindsey was begging me to fix everything like I have some sort of magical powers to make everything better again.

Before Catherine can direct any more anger or disappointment my way, Nikki reaches down, grabs my arm then lifts me up; all the while making sure Catherine knows that she and I are going to go check in on Lindsey. I let Nikki pull me away and try not to notice the resigned look Mom is giving to the wall directly across from her.

As soon as we turn the corner Nikki stops our forward movement. "Do you really want to pick a fight with her right now?"

My body deflates and whatever anger I was trying to dredge up on Lindsey's behalf, or on my own. just fizzles out of existence. "No," I respond through a heavy sigh. "I think I'm just really tired right now." Perhaps I didn't notice how tired until I was confronted with something that didn't include my mother playing a silly game with me.

"You need to give her some slack, Mel," Nikki's hand slips from around my arm and down to my waist.

I wasn't aware that I wasn't giving any slack. "You're probably right." I step away from her and move back down the hall towards the way we came from. Nikki calls out to me but I don't bother to immediately respond. I go back to Mom's and Catherine's room.

The door is now closed and I can hear whispered murmurs coming from inside. I don't try to decipher what any of them are before I knock on the metal door. I'm not going to listen in on this conversation. It's between them.

Catherine opens the door and she's not looking any happier now than she did when Nikki dragged me away from her. A quick look behind her lets me know that Mom isn't looking her best at the moment either. There's enough tension between them that most likely has nothing to do with me. I'm just not completely sure all of what it does involve.

"Is Lindsey okay?" Catherine asks me with clear concern. She's probably silently praying that I'm not about to tell her that something else has fallen into her lap for her to try and make better. There's already so much stuff she needs to deal with hanging about.

"Lindsey's fine," I brush my hand through my hair and then take in a deep breath. I came back here to say something that was important and I'm going to say it despite the lack of nerve that has suddenly come upon me. "I just forgot to tell you something earlier."

"What?" Catherine doesn't look like she's ready to keep her patience with me and since no one seems to have gotten any sleep lately, and everyone's temper is already beyond running thin, I can understand her current frustration.

I force my hands to stop fidgeting at my sides. I bow my head for a second then bring my eyes back up to hers. "Thank you," I whisper. "Thanks for even caring to come out here."

She was looking ready for a fight, but I'm not going to fight with her. I don't have a reason to fight with her. The only reason she's even here is because she cares so much about Mom and me. I probably should have bothered to remember that when she was yelling at me earlier.

"I'm glad you're here," I add before she can come up with anything to say back to me. I take a small step forward and wrap my arms around her. It takes her a moment before she begins to return my hug.

When we pull apart, I take a quick look at Mom who is standing behind Catherine looking at me with what looks like jealousy, and I don't think she's jealous at the fact that I hugged Catherine; she's probably more upset that Catherine bothered to hug me. Just thinking over these last couple of days, I can't help but wonder when the last time was my parents spent any time together alone without fighting. The distance that is obviously between them right now couldn't have just sprung up into existence the moment my mother was knocking on my front door needing a place to sleep off the alcohol she had consumed.

"If you need anything, let us know." It's the best thing that I can offer right now and it's almost an empty offer at that. If Catherine needs anything, I doubt that I can give it to her. I'm truthful enough with myself to realize that I'm not currently all put together right now. But, I can do my best to try and help out a little. I can do my best to try and not be selfish right now.

I've proven that I can focus on more than myself. I proved it to myself when I went with Nikki to see her family. I proved it by maintaining my silence and not going crazy when the police officers had me in cuffs. And if I can do that for Nikki then I better be able to do the same for Catherine and the same for my mother. They deserve that from me. Well, they deserve more than just that from me, but that's what I know I'll be able to give.

My whole family is here now, and I think they just might need me to be there for them just about as much as I need them to stand by my side. Lindsey fell asleep in my arms earlier, looking at me to protect her from the pain that is consuming her right now. She wants me to be her big sister, and that's important.

"I'm going to go back to Lindsey." I give a pathetic wave to both of them and then start on making my way back down the hallway doing my best to ignore the fact that Catherine is now crying. I'm pretty sure that I have something to do with that, but I don't know how to make it better right now so I'm just going to leave her alone. I'm not completely comfortable with watching her cry, considering I've only actually seen her do it maybe a handful of times.

Nikki steps in next to me as I walk back down the hallway towards our room. "You know," she clears her throat, "I wasn't expecting you to do that."

I nod. "I know, but it was probably overdue."

We reach our room and from the sound of the television coming through the door, I'd bet that Lindsey has already woken up.

"Did you get all the fighting out of the way?" Lindsey asks me as soon as I step through the door.

"All the fighting?" I can't help but smile a bit. "I think that's wishful thinking."

Lindsey lets out a long breath and throws herself back onto the bed. "I just want to go home."

"You just got here," Nikki tells her.

"And here sucks," Lindsey's quick to respond. "Nothing about this is fun."

I don't think I'm in a position to argue with her right now. This hasn't been all that much fun. It's been good for Mom and me, and Nikki might have even gained something from it, but overall this experience hasn't been drowning in fun.

"Well," Nikki offers, "maybe we can find something to do that is fun."

Nikki and I went to a bar to get away and unwind and somehow, I don't think Catherine would want me to take Lindsey out for a drink. As a matter of fact, I'm pretty sure Catherine wouldn't want me taking Lindsey back to any of the places I used to hang out at when I lived in the area. Nikki didn't hang out in the best of places either. Plus, the only place I had really planned on visiting is my grandparents' grave site, and that probably wouldn't be fun for Lindsey either.

"What is it you do to unwind when you're stressed?" I ask, somewhat disappointed in myself that I don't already know the answer. I should know these things about Lindsey.

"I don't know," Lindsey shrugs. "Usually, I go out with my friends." She looks down at the carpeted floor. "Or I'd draw or somethin'."

"Well, I'm not all that artistic." I haven't taken a single art class at all and the last time I tried to draw something it ended up looking more like a rabid animal than a labeled diagram of the human heart. "So, how about we make a trip to the nearest mall?"

"Aren't you tired?" Lindsey asks me with a skeptical look on her face. "You haven't slept yet, right?"

I wave away her concern. "Sleep's only for the very old and the very young." It would probably do me some good right now as well, but Lindsey is more important than sleep. Someone has to pay some attention to her and I'm volunteering myself since I honestly don't think my parents are in any shape to pay attention to their youngest right now. "We should get some breakfast first, though."

Lindsey noticeably perks up. "Food sounds good."

I turn my attention to Nikki. "Why don't you stay here and get some sleep? If Mom or Catherine stops by you can let them know what's up."

Nikki probably doesn't want to let me out of her sight right now, but I'm sure she'll recognize that me spending some alone time with Lindsey is important. "Call me to let me know where you two end up?"

"Of course," I give Nikki a brief hug then lead Lindsey out of the hotel room. We make our way down to the lobby only to discover that we're too late to partake in the complimentary breakfast. So, I hand over my car keys to Lindsey and tell her to find us the nearest place that serves breakfast. She hasn't had her driver's license for too long now, but I trust her driving more than I do my own.

During the drive, Lindsey begins talking incessantly about her friends and their boyfriends. I try to keep up with everyone's name and what it is Lindsey has to say about them, but she loses me rather quickly. She might have had a good point when she mentioned that I might need sleep. I'm not quite sure exactly when I fell asleep during Lindsey's rant, but when I wake up the car is parked and Lindsey is eating a breakfast taco.

"I got you one, too." She must notice me staring at her taco because she reaches into the backseat and pulls out a paper bag that has grease spots staining it.

I take the bag away from her then take out my taco. "Where did you pick these up?" I ask as I peel back the aluminum foil on my unhealthy breakfast.

Lindsey shrugs. "Some place called Papa's or Mama's something or other." She takes another bite of her taco. "It's good."

"Where are we?" She's taken us away from wherever she picked up the food because we're in a parking lot facing a baseball field.

"It's a park," she answers me like I've just asked the stupidest question known to humankind.

"Yeah, I figured that one out. Do you happen to remember which park?" I don't recognize this place and I thought that I managed to go to most of the places near my former residence. I used to play basketball at the parks all the time. It gave me a lot of practice with the added benefit of not being at home.

"I don't remember." Lindsey crumples up the aluminum foil that had been covering her now eaten taco. She throws it in the bag that is still resting on my lap, then leans back in her seat and stares out the front window.

Not wanting to really fight about where we've ended up, I start eating the taco Lindsey got for me and make sure to thank her for getting the food. She gives me some kind of a grunt but doesn't indicate that she's capable of saying actual words. I'm not quite sure how long I was asleep, but I'm pretty sure it's not possible for one person's talkative demeanor to change this quickly. Or maybe, since she's finally silent that means that she's actually filling the silent void with her anxious thoughts instead of her rambling words.

I guess getting a little sleep makes me a bit more insightful. Unfortunately, this new wave of insightfulness isn't accompanied by insightful words. All I can think of saying to her is asking her how she's doing and that's probably the stupidest question ever. So, since I have no words to offer her, I maintain the silence and finish my taco.

It seems like I've been spending a lot of time in cars lately, a lot of silent time spent in cars with a family member. Mom wasn't all that talkative during our long-ass drive from Nevada. Sure, we got in some good meaningful conversation, but I recall a conversation about forming a band as well. Maybe Lindsey would like to form a band. Music is a form of art and she's into the artistic stuff.

It doesn't take a lot of imagination on my part to picture Lindsey in some kind of rock band. It doesn't take much imagination for me to visualize Catherine's reaction to that either. She would probably try and talk Lindsey into joining the high school band instead. Maybe she'd try to get Lindsey to play the clarinet instead of becoming a drummer, because for some reason I think Lindsey would choose to be a drummer. She'd get to beat out all of her anger on the drums, and then when her band reached fame she could give interviews about how her stressful family life is to blame for her success. Then, of course, as everyone knows it's just one long downward spiral after that, what with all the drugs and alcohol she would eventually consume, not to mention the sexual depravity she would fall into.

"You shouldn't be a drummer," I blurt out and quickly realize that I probably should have gotten more sleep. In conjunction with the greater insight apparently my imagination has grown quite a bit as well.

Lindsey looks over at me like I've suddenly grown a third arm. "What?"

"Have you ever thought about joining a band?" It's a good and valid question, I think.

"No," Lindsey draws out the word. "Have you?" She asks me uncertainly.

"Mom and I talked about it, but I don't think anything's going to come of it."

"Are you okay?" She's still looking at me like I'm loony.

I think it's time to change the subject. "Do you remember when we went to the park right before those basketball scouts came to watch me play? I tried to get you and Mom to play basketball, unsuccessfully."

Lindsey chuckles. "That seems like it happened a long time ago."

"Yeah," I sigh. "It was like a lifetime ago."

"Do you want to try and teach me to play again?" She asks with a slight smile.

Neither of us is dressed for it, but that day so long ago was a good day. I wouldn't mind going back to that day for a little while. "I'm willing to give it a try."

We get out of the car and walk over to the basketball courts. There are already a couple of games going on, but it doesn't take much for me to talk the players into letting Lindsey and me into their game. It doesn't take too long before Lindsey and I are just concentrating on the game we're playing. I've long since forgotten how much simpler my life is when I have a basketball in my hand. Basketball has always been easy to me.

So, even if I can't draw worth anything, I'm glad that I can give Lindsey something that will take her mind off of the craziness of our family. I'm glad we can make this new memory; because I know it'll be something that each of us can hold onto once we make our way back to Las Vegas. When we reminisce about this experience, we can always bring up that time we went to that park we can't even remember the name of, ate some tacos in the car and played basketball with some guys we never would see again. This is the only magic I have in me to give to Lindsey, and it has to be enough because I don't think I can magically fix our parents or our lives.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimers in previous chapters**

**Chapter 21**

By the time Lindsey and I get back to the hotel, the day has turned well away from the afternoon and has entered straight into evening. I had tried getting Lindsey to agree to come back sooner, but she didn't want to and I didn't feel the need to force her back into the stressful situation we've all managed to create. Catherine called a couple of times to ask us where we were, but she didn't freak out about us being gone. If I had to make an educated guess, I would even say she was happy that I had given Lindsey a chance to get away from them. She could probably see the unfair hand we had all dealt Lindsey just as well as I could.

Now that we're back at the hotel with everyone else, we're supposed to do a family thing and meet up for dinner. This wasn't my idea and I'm not in complete support of it, but I'm willing to go along to see what happens even though I'm about ready to drop from exhaustion, and don't trust myself to not fall asleep on my plate of food. Instead of voicing my concerns though, I march on like the trooper that I am, or have just spontaneously become, and head straight into the small restaurant inside of the hotel. I'm the last of the group to arrive since I did take the time out to shower when Lindsey and I first got back. I had high hopes that it would wake me up a little, but I now realize that sleep is probably the only productive cure I could use right now to chase away my exhaustion.

As I enter, it looks like everyone is acting civil. I sit down at the table with them, and get at least a fake smile from everyone in my family. I give my best fake smile back and then pay attention to the table's contents. It looks like they've already ordered an appetizer and it doesn't look like they saved me a whole lot of it. I take a bite of what tastes like spinach dip and am not feeling the need to start up conversation. I'm used to the silence. It seems almost preferable right now instead of the yelling that seems to break out around every proverbial conversation corner right now.

The waitress comes by and asks for our order and her look lingers on me for just a moment longer than necessary. I don't recognize her and hope that she doesn't recognize me either. Hopefully, she's just surprised that another person has joined the table. We all give our food orders and the waitress takes up our menus. By the time the menu is out of my hand, I've already forgotten what it is I've asked for. My short term memory is gone, and judging by the looking that our waitress keeps swinging my way, my long term memory is gone as well.

"Catherine and I both heard from Grissom today," Mom's voice grabs my attention, but I have a feeling that she was talking for a little longer than my brain recognizes, because if she hasn't then that was a really bad lead into a conversation. I thought we were ex-nay on saying Grissom's name, and I know better than to try and bring up their work. That's not a trip I want to set up for myself.

"Is something up?" Nikki asks quite seriously in the same tone of voice that I've heard her use before when it comes to her chosen profession.

"We need to go back," Catherine answers. "So," she shoots a quick look at me, and then for some reason decides to focus on Nikki instead, "we have to leave tomorrow morning."

"Okay?" I know my reply sounds like a question and in all honesty it is, because I'm not understanding right now why all the tension…extra tension is suddenly at the forefront. Mom is looking at me like she's expecting some kind of more intense reaction, but I don't understand what my reaction is supposed to be. "If you gotta go, then you gotta go?"

"Did you, uh," Mom looks down at her plate then back up at me, "still want to go see Mom and Dad?"

"Wait, wait, wait." I reach up and start rubbing at my left eye. "Since you're leaving early in the morning to go save the world by solving one case at a time, that's supposed to mean that I'm expected to do the same?"

"We can't leave you here alone, Mel." Catherine replies almost before I've finished talking obliviously already prepared for what I've said. That must mean that I'm becoming predictable, and I don't think I want to take that as being a good thing right now.

I'm not two years old, and for that matter I'm not five either. I'm old enough to be on my own; I think I've proven that fact by operating as a sane individual for the last couple of years. I don't need babysitters all the time. I've gotten through the last couple of days intact. But I'm supposed to be acting unselfish, and if I bother to get into an argument with my parents right now about staying out here alone it would be to make a selfish point.

"I can stay out here with her," Nikki offers, her hand covering my thigh and squeezing it a bit to hopefully let me know her intent isn't to treat me like a child. "I haven't been called back."

Before either of my parents can open their mouths to decline Nikki's offer, I decide to open mine first. "It's cool." I place my hand on top of Nikki's. "We'll all move out tomorrow morning." I grin at Nikki. "Las Vegas PD could probably use your help now if things are getting wild enough for the CSI people to start freaking out."

"No one's freaked out," Mom smiles and even bothers to give me a quick wink of the eye as well. I think she might recognize what it is that I've just done. "They just want the best CSI available to get the job done."

"Thanks for the compliment," Catherine gives a little smirk, and just like that the tension dissipates by at least half. I haven't seen Catherine crack a smile at all since she's gotten here, and while a smirk isn't a smile it isn't exactly the icy cold look of disappointment and discontent that she's been walking around with. A smirk is a big step up in my book.

"Excuse me," the waitress comes back, but she's not carrying any food. "Are you Melinda Sidle?" She asks me and my earlier fear that she recognized me from some place has come to fruition.

"You know a lot of people around here, don't you?" Mom says before I can turn and tell the waitress that she's mistaken and that my name is Melanie Sedale and not Melinda Sidle.

"Did we go to high school together?" I figure this is as likely as me having met her on the street. Asking about school just seemed safer, what with my entire family sitting here at the table with me. It wouldn't be in my best interest to have Miss Curious blurt out something incriminating.

"Yeah," she chuckles softly. "We were lab partners in chemistry. You were the only reason I passed the class."

I don't remember taking chemistry in high school here. "I'm glad I could help."

She chuckles again. "Yeah," she draws out the word, "I just wanted to say 'hi'."

"Well, thanks." I'm at a loss for words and don't want to try at a public conversation since I know she's lying about where and how we met.

She nods a couple of times and then walks off with a smile on her face. I watch her go. "I'm going to go wash my hands before the food comes."

"I'll go with you," Catherine immediately offers and I know it would seem weird if I told her she couldn't join me.

Catherine and I both get up from our seats and I let her take the lead. As soon as she enters the restroom, she takes a quick look around then turns to me. "Where do you really know our waitress from?"

One day I'm really going to have to work on being covert since my parents and girlfriend gets paid to notice details. "I don't remember," I admit with a quick shrug of my shoulders. "I don't know her from chemistry that's for sure. I didn't take chemistry at the high school here."

"Okay," Catherine's hands go to her hips. "Where do you think you might know her from?"

"I don't know," I answer as I walk past Catherine to the two sinks in here. I wouldn't want to go back out there and not have washed my hands; Mom might notice and decide to interrogate me in a closet since Catherine's got the bathroom covered. "But honestly," I add to Catherine's reflection in the mirror, "my brain is too tired to try and conjure up all the memories from my past that I've willfully tried to forget."

Catherine walks up next to me and starts washing her hands at the sink next to mine. "She didn't seem to recognize Nikki, and Nikki doesn't seem to know her."

"Honestly Catherine, just because she knows me doesn't really mean that I know her." I move away from the sink and then grab some paper towels from a counter across from me. "It's not like I was a shy recluse while I was in school."

Catherine gives a little grunt then turns off the water and turns around to face me. "I know this sounds bad Mel, but I don't trust the kind of people that you hung out with around here."

I reach behind me and pick up a couple more paper towels to hand over to Catherine. "Yeah, I don't really trust them either." They just aren't trustworthy people; I've always known that.

Catherine takes the paper towel out of my hand. "I used to hang out with these kinds of people, Mel. They're dangerous."

I throw my used paper towel at the trash can, silently pleased when I don't miss the wide opening. "I think I was a little dangerous then, too."

"Probably." Catherine makes an attempt to throw her towel in the trash, but misses. She silently curses under her breath and I use all of my internal fortitude not to let out a soft laugh. I think we're supposed to be having a serious conversation here.

So, instead of saying anything else, I walk over to the trash can so that I can pick Catherine's paper towel up off the floor and throw it into the bin. I can feel Catherine's eyes following my every movement, and do my best to not act self-conscious about it. When I turn back around to face her, her head is tilted to her right just a bit and her mouth is slightly open ready to say something, but no words are coming out.

My brain isn't at a hundred percent right now, it's not even at forty-five percent right now, but it can at least figure out that Catherine didn't follow me into the bathroom just because she wanted to know about our waitress. That was only a weakly veiled segue into what she must really want to know. There's a question that was put on the table out there in the dining area, and I haven't given it an answer yet. Catherine wants to know what's going to happen. She probably wants to sway me in a certain direction outside of Mom's field of vision.

Suddenly, I feel like I'm all the sudden part of the in-crowd when it comes to private conversations about deciding 'what's for the best'. I've been shoved in and Mom has been shoved out. Well, I don't think that's exactly right. I've been split in two, Mom and Cath each have a hold of a part of me and have somehow managed to shove each other out of the way.

I stuff my hands in my front pockets, and then immediately regret the decision since it's an obvious sign of weakness, and now is not the time to be weak. If I'm weak, then Catherine might be able to sway me in the direction she thinks is best. "Mom and I need to go to the graves."

Catherine's eyes widen just a small bit, and I think she might be surprised that I was able to decode her silence. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

Translated that probably means that Catherine thinks this is the worst idea anyone could ever come up with. "No," I answer her. "It's probably not a good idea, but it's still important that we do this."

"Are you prepared for the consequences?" Her question sounds a lot like a threat, and sadly it's a threat that I want to listen to. My resolve isn't as strong as it probably should be, but I owe Mom this.

I owe my mother some closure about her parents' death. Hell, I might even owe me a little closure, too. I mean, even though we were both at the funeral, I don't think either one of us were thinking about the two people in the coffins being placed underground. I remember just staring down at the ground, trying to do my best to not stare at the woman who I had been told was my sister. I was hoping that I could come up with a legally adequate reason for not going with her off to Las Vegas.

"I'm never prepared for the consequences, Catherine." I take my hands out of my front pockets. "I just always find a way to live with them."

Catherine's eyes turn away from me. She closes them and inhales a deep breath. When she reopens her eyes and lets out the breath of air she's taken in, it's obvious she's come to some kind of a decision. "You're just like your mother."

"You'll lucky I'm in the frame of mind to take that as a compliment." I tell her, knowing that there really isn't anything else for me to say. We understand each other, I think. At least, I hope that we understand each other.

"We should go back to the table," Catherine walks past me and to the bathroom door. "Everyone is probably wondering what it is we're doing."

I nod, and then follow her out the door. We make our way back to the table and it looks like the food has arrived during our absence. Mom gives me a lingering look as I sit down, and I must be getting really good at this silent communication thing, because it almost seems like she wants to know that everything is okay. I give her a small smile then turn my attention to the food in front of me. It looks like I ordered a vegetarian sandwich with some potato soup.

I pick up my spoon and try to ask as nonchalantly as possible, "So, Mom, did you want to go out to the cemetery after we eat?" Everyone at the table stops eating, which for some reason inspires my hand to put my spoon to my mouth.

Mom clears her throat then says, "Yeah, that's fine."

"Did you both want some company?" Nikki offers.

I can't say yes to Nikki if I would say no to Catherine. "I think we'll be good."

Nikki gives me a slight nod, but doesn't bother to say anything else. Although, she does throw a look over at Catherine that I can't decipher. I know that they've got some kind of understanding going on about Mom and me, but I haven't been let in on all of the details of it. I haven't been let in on any of the details of it despite the argument I heard going on earlier. Honestly, I don't want to know about it. I don't need to know about everything.

Nothing else needs to be said about us going to the cemetery. At least that's my opinion, and for the moment it seems like everyone else is on the same page as me. Everyone turns their attention back to their food and Lindsey even makes some idle comment about how her quesadilla is spicier than she thought it would be. Nikki then throws out a comment about whatever it is she ordered and so that I'm not left out I say that my own food is edible.

So, when all conversation about the food in front of us runs out it's like all conversation topics are suddenly used up. And since my brain isn't focusing on the tension filled conversation about food anymore, it suddenly remembers how tired it really is. When I made my way down from the hotel room to the restaurant, I promised myself that I would go straight to bed afterwards. It doesn't seem like that's an option right now, unless I want to tell my mother that I won't accompany her to the graveyard, and I can't turn back after making such a big deal of saying I'd do it.

"Are you okay, Mel?" Mom asks me, forcing my eyes to refocus on what is actually in front of them instead of the looking without actually seeing thing that they've been doing.

"I'm tired," It's the only response I have for her. If I said I was okay everyone in this place would realize I was telling a lie.

"When's the last time you slept?" Nikki asks me, clearly concerned.

I lean back in my chair then cover my eyes with the palms of my hands. "Saying I don't remember isn't a good answer, right?"

Nikki reaches over and removes my hands from my eyes. "Mel," she sighs out my name and I have a feeling dinner might be over for me right now. "I'm going to take her back to the room. Sara, why don't you come pick her up in a few hours to leave for the cemetery?"

I should probably have more of a say in these goings on, but I've hit a physical wall, and I don't see me getting through it with just my sheer will as my arsenal. So, I'll let this conversation happen without my direct input. I don't even look over at Mom to see how she's responding to this. I don't look at Catherine or Lindsey either. I just let Nikki help me stand up and let her guide me towards the exit.

Before we make it back out into the hotel's lobby, I feel a hand grab my shoulder and I know that the hand can't belong to Nikki unless she suddenly grew an extra limb. When I turn around I'm staring into the face of our waitress, who I allegedly went to high school with in that fake chemistry class.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of everyone you were with," her eyes dart from me to Nikki then back to me. I guess she doesn't mind saying whatever it is she feels the needs to say in front of Nik. "Thank you."

For some reason, I don't think she's thanking me for choosing this restaurant for my eating needs. I'm doing my best to try and remember what it is she's really thanking me for, but I can't grasp onto it. At least 'thank you' already has a ready made response that doesn't require a lot of thinking. 'You're welcome."

"Look," her gaze drops down and she starts wringing her hands together, "it's pretty clear that you don't remember me, and that's okay, but I just still felt the need to thank you since I didn't get a chance to before."

"Hey," I reach out and place a hand over hers. "Whatever I did, I'm glad I did it."

She nods, then steps away from my reach causing my hand to fall from hers. "I need to get back to work." She practically runs away from me, and I'm slightly disappointed that she didn't let me in on the good deed that I had bothered to do.

Nikki's arms goes around my waist, pulling me closer to her body, letting my back rest against her for some much needed support. "Let's get back to our room."

I watch our waitress disappear from my field of vision, then turn around and let Nikki guide me back to our room. We don't say anything during our ride on the elevator and don't even bother to speak as I fall into the bed. Nikki is kind enough to take my shoes off for me as well as my jeans. When she's finished, she turns off the light and then comes and joins me on the bed.

"Get some sleep," she whispers then kisses me softly on my right cheek.

I close my eyes, not quite able to push the waitresses face out of my mind. I don't even know her name. A part of me feels like I should be frustrated by my lack of memory when it comes to whatever happened, but I'm not frustrated. I'm disconnected, and not in that disconnected way that is a reminder I'm bi-polar. It's a disconnect that reminds me I'm not that person I used to be.

I don't have all of her memories. I don't act like she used to act. I don't think how she used to think. I can't connect to that person anymore, and I'm not quite sure if I'm supposed to be able to. She used to be me, shouldn't I know her?

Without much thought to my actions, I turn on my side then move closer to Nikki's body. I pull her arm so that it's wrapped around me. "Are you okay?" She whispers.

"I'm not sure," I honestly reply.

"What's wrong?"

I blink rapidly a few times, surprised that I feel tears forming. "I don't think I know yet."

Nikki accepts my answer, hopefully understanding what it is I'm saying. She tightens her hold on me, and kisses my tears away. "Try and get some sleep."

I close my eyes, and force myself to see only darkness behind my closed eyelids. I don't want to see any faces and don't want to hear anyone else's words. I don't want to review what's happened or what's going to happen. I've been in a state of emergency for a couple of days now, maybe I'm just overly tired and have arrived at a true state of exhaustion. This can't be about me agreeing to go to a cemetery. This can't be about me not accepting Catherine's guidance. It can't be anything but physical, because if it was more than just a lack of sleep then that means it can't be solved by getting some rest.

Right now, my selfishness makes its appearance from within me and it wants nothing more than to take Nikki and flee from my family. It wants to tell my mother that there will be no graveyards, no pandering to her emotional crisis. It wants to tell Catherine good luck and that she's on her own with a family in turmoil, and it wants to let Lindsey know that she needs to find another person to seek guidance from. It wants to tell them all to go away, because I'm tired in more than just a physical way. I want some peace, some inner peace and I don't want to work so damn hard for it. I want it to be easy and want it be sitting right in front of me, and I definitely don't want to know that Mom, Catherine, Nikki and probably even Lindsey are feeling the exact same way as me right now. I don't want to know that every single one of them secretly desires to get away and not look back, because if I know that then that would only motivate me to stay; I can't be the only one that wants to run and actually does it. I wouldn't know how to live with that. I don't think that I'd even try.


	22. Chapter 22

Disclaimers in Previous Chapters

**Chapter 22**

Voices drift to my half-awake self, and despite my best efforts to tune them out, my brain is intent on understanding the words anyway. Nikki is telling Mom that I'm still asleep and, as seems to be the new norm, Mom is making sure that I'm okay—just checking up and making sure that I haven't gone crazy again in her absence and lost all my sanity in my sleep. Nikki is telling Mom that she's concerned about me going to my grandparents' graves, and Mom is saying that she'll look after me and not to worry. I should sit up and let them know that I'm awake enough to talk for myself, but that would involve being part of a conversation I thought was already settled. While it is possible for me to repeat the same conversation over and over again, I don't want to and I don't need to.

So, despite my hesitation to get up and go to the cemetery, I did say that I was going to do it. Catherine asked me if it was a good idea, and I honestly know that it isn't. I can't predict what's going to happen, but my mother is standing here waiting for me and I'm not okay with letting her linger on her own. I know there's something deep going on inside of her, and I don't know what it is but I do know that I'm the only person right now standing between her and falling apart.

It's amazing how just a couple hours of sleep can clear up the fuzziness in my head. Just a few moments of being still and not trying to figure something out, gave me an odd insight into what's been happening around me. I'm no closer to understanding all of my actions, but I can see what's going on with my mother and I can see that for some reason I'm the person she's turning to.

I wonder how Catherine must feel, most likely already having worked out, that she wasn't enough to get Mom through this thing she's going through. After years of being together, and after years of fighting for their future together, Mom somehow just decided that Catherine wasn't enough. That's gotta be like a knife in the back and the front. It's multiple stab wounds at once and instead of bleeding Catherine is just acting like she's made of stone.

I'm sure it wouldn't be out of character for me to yell at my mom for what she's done to Catherine, but I have no defense for my own actions so can't call her out on this. I left Nikki and shut her out until I needed her again. I've turned away from her when I probably should have tried to hang on, and she's not the first person I've done that to.

When I got scared, I ran away from Jenny, too. Sure, I was in high school then and my parents had just died and I found out my sister was really my biological mother, but I know I shouldn't have kicked her away like I did. I know better than to think that we would have had a happily ever after but I'm sure we could have been friends. We did start off that way.

Mom and I are alike. I'm not blind enough to try and deny it, and since I've got on the meds and been in counseling I'm not quite as good at self-denial as I was a while back. The fact is and will always be that, Mom and I, we're two of a kind. She didn't raise me. We haven't had an opportunity to spend a whole lot of time together since I was born. I'm pretty sure I hated her for a good long while. Just by our massive differences I've been more likely to say we're not alike at all, but really, we're not that different.

Perhaps, that's why Catherine is looking towards me to find a way to get Mom back to her. I came back to Nikki. I let her into my life and into my head. We've made decisions to stay together even though there're a few obstacles we both have to work through. I'm pretty sure we're going to do that together. We've done a lot together already.

I know that Nikki's mine and that I'm hers. I know we're always going to be that way and there's nothing we can do to change it. I'm not sure Mom and Catherine have that same connection. Nikki and I didn't start out like they did. We got along from the beginning and were best friends before anything. We knew our future was always going to include the other and we've accepted the flaws we each carry.

"Are you ready to leave?" I sit up from the bed and then run my hand through my hair. Mom looks surprised that I'm awake enough to ask a question, but Nikki doesn't seem as surprised.

"You don't have to do this," Mom tells me, being kind enough to leave me room to back out of the upcoming emotional turmoil.

"No, I don't," I shake my head a little. "But I think that you need to, and I'm not mean enough to let you go alone."

Both Mom and Nikki are looking at me like I've grown an extra nose in my sleep. I guess I'm not supposed to be completely honest this late in the evening. It doesn't seem like I should mention that I'm doing something for someone else instead of just for myself, because then I guess that makes things not about me, but about Mom.

"I can do this alone," Mom finds her voice and apparently her indignation along with it.

"I know you can," I stand up and stretch a little. "But you don't have to. So, let's go take a midnight walk through a graveyard."

Mom is opening her mouth probably with another protest about how she doesn't need me and how it's not important for her to go anyway, but even though sleep has given me clarity I'm almost positive it hasn't given me anymore patience.

"We don't need to talk about this," I say before Mom can utter a word. "We've already decided. So, let's leave."

I look around for my shoes and find them underneath the bed. It doesn't take me long to put them on, and it takes even less time for me to walk past Mom and Nikki out the hotel room's door. There are protests and uncertainties floating in the air around me, but none of them are mine so I don't feel the need to pay any attention to them.

I'm at the elevator with the down arrow pressed and lit up letting me know the elevator has been signaled before Mom makes her way out of my hotel room. She doesn't say anything as we get onto the elevator and maintains her silence as we are falling down to the lobby. When we reach the exit, Mom stops in front of me as I hold the door open for her. She opens her mouth and I just know there's going to be another 'You don't have to do this' coming my way.

She clasps and unclasps her right hand once, then twice, her words not making it past her lips. I'm ready to interrupt whatever it is she hasn't managed to say yet, but before I can speak her words aren't just a possibility anymore but a reality. "I'm scared, Mel."

Suddenly, I feel like an awkward child sitting in the middle of a cavernous room being called on to solve an impossible algebraic equation with just my fingers and toes as counting aids. Mom's brown eyes are staring into my own, and there something there that she's asking me to give her and I'm not sure what it is I'm supposed to hand over.

Catherine needs to be here. I may have reached official adult status, but Catherine _is_ the equal adult. I'm not my mother's equal. We can be friends…we can continue to try and be better friends, but we're not equal. She's my mother and that creates a barrier between us.

If Catherine were here, then she could stare into Mom's eyes and say something that wasn't cliché and mediocre, because even if it was cliché or mediocre it wouldn't seem like it because she's Catherine freaking Willows. She's not me. She's the one that should be standing here. This isn't an experience Mom and I should share, but I did say I would do it. I said I would take the risk.

So, I give Mom a slight smirk and say, "Believe it or not, under this very cool, calm and collected mask I'm wearing, I'm completely freaking out." There's no reason for me to lie or pretend to be more okay than I actually am. Mom would see through a lie. "And I think if neither of us were scared about what we're going to do then that'd be a clear sign of insanity."

Mom gives a soft chuckle. "Are you sure the fact that we're going isn't a sign of insanity?"

I shrug. "At least we have each other to keep company. It sucks going crazy alone."

My mother gives a soft laugh and I laugh along with her. I'm pretty sure we both already understand that what I said wasn't entirely a joke. I've become completely unhinged with only my crazy mind, making sense of a world it couldn't fully understand, as company. Mom may not be bi-polar, but if the stories I've been told and if my reading between the lines is at all accurate, then my mother has become unhinged before and was feeling completely and utterly alone at the time.

Mom finally walks out of the hotel lobby and the door I've been holding open gets some use. I follow her out and we walk silently towards the car. When we reach it, we look at each other silently deciding who is calm enough to make the drive to the cemetery. On its own, my left hand starts reaching for the keys but I force it to pull back and shove it down into my front pocket.

"It's a nice night," I look up at the sky, pretending that I can actually see the stars outside of the light pollution that covers the night sky. "It's not too hot or cold." I can't actually feel the temperature outside right now since my body has a constant cold chill running through it. This isn't the kind of cold that goes away with a home knit sweater and a parka. It's the kind of cold chill that will stay with me even if I'm standing in the middle of a blazing fire.

"Mel," Mom shoves her hands into her own pockets, "the cemetery is miles away. We can't walk there from here."

"Who says?" I immediately ask, somehow managing to sound defensive. "I'm young and you're not too old. We should be able to walk a few measly little miles."

Mom's giving me a look that's clearly meant to convey the fact that she's not going to walk to the cemetery in the middle of the night from our hotel. She's actually going to force us to come up with a more viable alternative. I'd offer to call a cab, but I'm not in the mood to wait for one to appear. If I'm forced to wait then I'll just go back up to my room, find Nikki and most likely lose all my conviction in going with Mom.

"I'll drive," Mom pulls her hands out of her pockets and turns to the car like she's fully ready to risk our lives on the off chance that she really is capable of driving a car in the current state she's in.

My cell phone is in my back pocket and I feel like reaching for it to call Catherine so that she can come down here and talk some sense into my mother. She could solve our problem and just drive us to the cemetery. I can't call her, though. Mom didn't ask Catherine to come with us, and I know that wasn't an accident.

"Okay," I walk to the passenger's side door and force myself not to hesitate as I open it. Mom theoretically should thrive in situations of high stress since she deals with it all the time in her job. She sees dead bodies and is pressured to help solve crimes so that the person's family can achieve a peace of mind, and the guilty party can be punished. Theoretically, she should be able to drive us to the cemetery under this relatively calm and stress free condition.

The theory goes to Hell though, when Mom starts the car and puts the car in drive instead of reverse as she steps on the gas. "You sure you're cool to do this?"

"Yeah," Mom puts the car in the right gear and my faith in her ability to get us out of this parking lot has lowered significantly.

I want to live. "I'll drive." I reach over and put the car back in park. "I just woke up from a nice nap and suddenly feel very energized."

Mom looks from me to the steering wheel and back again then lets out a loud sigh. "Don't tell anyone about this," she says as she turns the key and shuts down the engine.

I grunt in response to her demand since I don't feel right about making any verbal promises about not sharing this with anyone. Nikki will be told about this entire ordeal. I will have to talk about it with someone, and Nikki has more than earned the right to know what goes on with me when she's not around.

Mom gets out of the car to walk around to the passenger side and I just crawl over to the driver's side. When I start the engine up again, I pay extra close attention to making sure I have the car in reverse before I pull out of the parking space. I turn the radio on and flip through the stations until I find one playing a song with a beat going faster than the beating of my heart.

My focus goes solely on the beat of the music and making sure that I don't crash the car. Mom doesn't try and start up a conversation, and I'm certain that if I tried to talk right now then we would end up off the road and crashed into some nearby defenseless tree. Besides, silence gives us each a chance to think about the last time we actually laid eyes upon the graves we're going to see.

We've never talked about that day—the funeral. I don't remember a lot about it, honestly. I remember being more focused on what was going to happen afterwards than what was happening while my grandparents were being lowered into the ground. I thought about Nikki and what was going to happen when I left on a plane to Las Vegas with a sister I didn't know. I remember wondering why my big sister Sara Sidle looked so fucking scared like good ole' Mom and Dad were going to jump out of their coffins and eat her brains or something. I remember laughing about that thought.

All my attention was focused on the one person in the world that was supposed to be my family, and the friend she had brought along with her. Catherine was easier to talk to. When I first met her, I looked into her eyes and I saw something that I hadn't ever recalled seeing before. Her blue eyes let me know that she was someone that was on my side and that she was going to fight for me. She looked at me like she knew me, and Mom looked at me like I was a stranger.

I remember hoping, just in that first moment I met her, that Catherine really was my sister and the Sidle she was standing next to was just an imposter. It could have been the truth for me then, because I didn't really think I looked anything like big sis Sara. I pointed out all our differences in my head making them brighter and more apparent than our similarities.

As far as I knew, I was adopted and there was no reasons for me to look like this apparition come to life that was standing in front of me. Catherine would have been my choice if I had been given one. After a quick look over at my mother as I pull into a parking space in the middle of this too dark graveyard, I still think Catherine would be my first choice.

I don't know how to admit that, and it not sound bad, because I still want my mother in my life. I want for us to continue making a relationship despite all the shit that has built up between us. Sara Sidle is more important to me than I ever would have wanted to admit when I first consciously met her. But me being the selfish and lazy type, I would have preferred to have Catherine Willows as my mother. Things would have been easier, because I honestly believe that Catherine would have never left me.

Now, more than ever, I fully understand that Mom did what she could as she could. I know that she tried to do her best and do what was right. I know that I meant a lot to her and do mean a lot to her now. I intellectually understand a lot about what my mother has gone through, and I've forgiven her for things that perhaps weren't even for me to forgive.

Still, I think Catherine would have done it differently. I think she would have been my mother long before it was forced upon her. She would have held on when perhaps it would have been best to let go. She wouldn't have been afraid to give me structure and make the tough decisions about what to do with me when I was developing a personality disorder that would stay with me throughout my life.

"Are you getting out?" Mom asks me, obviously waiting for me to be the first one out of the car.

"Yeah," I shut off the engine and then unlock the car doors. I step out of the car and point myself in the direction that I know my grandparents' graves are. I'm the one that picked out their final resting places and there's no way I'm going to forget where those places are.

Mom follows me to the gravestones. Once we reach them, I read the markings carved into the stone and feel oddly absent of emotion. At one time, these two people consisted of my world and they're not here anymore. If they had died earlier then I would have been given an earlier chance of having a better life. Their deaths were good things for me. I benefited from them being laid to rest here.

So, I lean down onto the wet grass that now covers their resting place. "I forgive you, too," I whisper to their gravestones.

I look over to Mom and she's got tears streaming down her face like she's a leaking faucet. Then, she's kicking at Laura's gravestone and the heel of her boot is hitting the stone with enough force to make the sound from the impact fill the emptiness around us. I'm not sure if she's hitting the solid stone with enough force to topple it, but I don't really want her to hurt herself.

So, I move so that I'm standing behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. "It's okay," I say just loud enough so that she can hear me over her heavy breathing.

She collapses into my embrace and her breathing is becoming even more ragged. "I hate them, Mel," she tells me. "I hate them for everything they've done to you…for everything they've made me do."

Her weight is too much for me to hold right now. I slowly sink down to the ground, doing my best to keep my mother cradled in my arms.

"I forgive you, Mom." I whisper to her as soon as I'm on solid ground. "No matter what they were able to do, they weren't strong enough to make me hate you."

Mom is clawing at the front of my shirt, the cloth bunching up in her fist and I'm sure there will be marks left on my chest from where her fingernails are trying to grasp hold. Something inside of her has broken, has come completely unhinged and she's using me as her anchor.

I try to remember where my head was at when I completely lost it. My mind sends me flashes of sitting on Nikki's bathroom floor clawing at my own arms trying to get rid of a memory that my mind initially decided it didn't need, but was forced to recall anyway. My personality disorder reared itself up and none of the world made sense and it didn't make sense as to why I was in it.

I fell apart, completely and utterly apart. I woke up in a hospital room still trying not to remember the events that had so recently happened that I had actually played a part in. I had actually physically assaulted Catherine. I had actually driven in my underwear to an old friend's house desperate for answers. I had actually almost killed myself.

Mom didn't do those things. She hasn't done those things, and I'm pretty sure that she won't. She won't go to the extremes that I've reached. This is her moment, though. This is her falling apart and the only thing I can do is hold on to her as she cries about things that I don't fully understand and probably won't ever completely understand.

So, I reach into my pocket and pull out my cell phone. I speed dial a number and am not surprised at all when Catherine picks up her phone before the first ring is complete.

"Is everything okay?" She asks sounding worried.

"Mom needs you," I reply, looking down at my mother whose crying has calmed somewhat but still seems disconnected from the present as she's reliving moments from the past that I probably don't know about.

"Did she ask for me?"

"I'm asking."

"Okay, I'm on my way," I can hear the resignation in her voice. She's going to come here and handle whatever Mom is going to dish out because I asked her to come.

I close my cell phone and then toss it to the side. The clutch Mom has on my shirt loosens just a bit, and I feel like I should say something else to her, but I don't have anything else to say. Mom was searching for something by coming here, and judging by all the tears and emotional meltdown, I'm not quite sure she's found it. For that matter, I'm not sure I've accomplished anything by coming here either.

"Catherine is on her way," It's the only thing that's on my mind now. It might be wrong of me, but I can only hope that when Catherine arrives she'll be able to fix my mother. She'll put Mom back together and I won't have to feel so damned helpless. I'm used to feeling helpless when it comes to my own behavior, but this is a new kind of helpless. This is the kind of helpless that I've made a point of running away from.

"She shouldn't have to deal with this," Mom says almost too softly for me to understand. "It's not fair to her anymore."

I want to tell her that none of this is fair to any of us, but I'm not sure that's the best thing to say right now. Mom has absorbed this guilt and I can't absolve her of it, even though I'm pretty sure I've put some of it in front of her to bear. I can't completely undo what I've already done. I can't erase the words of hate I've already yelled out at her.

Just like with Catherine, ultimately, I'm not enough. I can't fix my mother. I can't fix the situation we've all fallen into. I'm not magic, but I do want this family to work. I want it to survive. So, I pull Mom closer to me and forget about finding words that will make her feel better. All I need to do is hold on long enough until Catherine shows up, because she may not be enough to fix Mom right now, but she's enough for me.


	23. Chapter 23

**I don't own CSI**

**Chapter 23**

My butt is wet and the cold air has managed to work its way under my skin and straight to my organs. Logically, I know it's not possible for me to feel that my kidneys are cold, but logic isn't my main driving force right now. Catherine showed up about two minutes ago. Coincidentally, that's about the exact same time that Mom pushed herself out of my hold and stormed off further into the cemetery. She saw Catherine and suddenly decided she didn't want to be in anyone's presence anymore, mine included this time.

Catherine is holding her right hand out to me, offering me some assistance in getting off this cold wet ground. My kidneys tell me I should take her offered hand, but I can't quite manage to get up right now. I'm still trying to figure out all that occurred within the last one hundred and twenty seconds of my life.

Mom isn't crying in my arms anymore. She isn't clinging to me like I am the only thing grounding her onto this earth. She's not whispering apologies to me through labored breaths about my childhood. Somehow, the mere presence of Catherine gave Mom enough strength back that she could push away from me, push me away from her, stop her tears and get up like she had never fallen apart in the first place.

"Come on," Catherine still has her hand held out for me to take. "You can't be comfortable in those wet clothes."

"What the hell happened?" I decide to ask instead of continuing to try and force my brain into coming up with answers it just doesn't have right now.

Catherine shrugs, not looking nearly as confident about the situation as I hoped she would be. So, instead of asking any more questions, I reach out and take her hand and then let her pull me up from the ground. I look around us, waiting to see if Mom is going to jump out from somewhere and let us know that she really didn't mean to shove me to the ground and run off in a dramatic display that seems bizarrely fitting to this whole messed up situation.

"You shouldn't go chase her down," Catherine says as she wraps her jacket around me.

I shake my head a little. "I don't want to." I wouldn't know what to do once I caught up with her. I don't think there's anything that I can do. Catherine's supposed to chase her, not me. Isn't that why I bothered to call her out here in the first place? I've gotten stuck in a situation I can't handle, and I guess it's my turn to follow in my mother's footsteps and run away. "I think I'd just like to get back to Nikki."

Catherine gives me an understanding nod and tells me, "Nikki's waiting in the car." Looks like she's just going to let me run away.

"It's time for us to go home," I pull Catherine's jacket closer to my body, taking comfort in it for more reasons than just the extra warmth. "Mom will come back to Las Vegas when she's ready. She wouldn't abandon her work obligations."

"Mel don't," Catherine gives me only a slightly disapproving look and I know I should just nod and not let whatever bitter emotion is building inside of me to take control, but I'm suddenly feeling very angry about something and I only know that blaming Mom for whatever it is makes me feel slightly better.

"Don't what?" I step away from Catherine so that I don't have to look directly into her blue eyes. Seeing her disapproval right now just might be enough to get me to shut up and think about what I'm angry about. I don't feel like thinking. "Mom has lost her mind, Catherine. She's acting like a child."

"No," Catherine gives a slight shake of her head. "Mel, she's acting like someone who's in pain and is hurting."

"Okay," I say softly, probably not even loud enough for Catherine to hear me. "Fine. But as much as she is or isn't hurting right now, we still need to get back to Las Vegas. The world doesn't stop spinning because we're a family in crisis."

When I finally look at Catherine again, I can tell she's searching for something to tell me that will keep me in this cemetery full of empathy for my mother who just forcefully pushed me away from her. There's nothing she can say, though. It's hard to fight the truth.

If Mr. Grissom called Mom and Catherine to get them back to Las Vegas then he needs them there for a good reason. I'm sure even he knows it would be in bad taste to call them back after he got all tongue happy with my mother. He never really struck me as the type of guy that would bring them back on an emotional whim.

"I'm going to find her." Catherine straightens up her stance. This isn't the Catherine that I know as my second mother. This is the CSI Catherine that comes out to play when the other Catherine can't take control of a situation. "Go to Nikki and then go back to the hotel. Pick up Lindsey and then check us out."

"Are you going to meet us there?" It's a useless question. She's going to grab Mom then they're going to drive back to Vegas and then straight into work.

"Call us when you get back home."

I unwrap Catherine's jacket from around me then hand it back over to her. She puts it on and when her gaze meets mine again, I suddenly feel like I've done something incredibly bad. I made a decision and I think it was the wrong one.

"Go on," Catherine softly tells me. "I'll take care of your mother."

Yeah, I've screwed something up. I've done something wrong. Mom's the one who pushed me away from her and then stormed off. She's the one that ran away, and Catherine's the one that told me not to go after her. With the few options laid out to me and the anger already building inside, what the fuck was I supposed to do? What is it I did do? They told me they had to go back to Las Vegas for work. That was the plan before I reminded anyone of it.

"What just went wrong here, Catherine?" I want to understand. I don't want to make mistakes and then not make up for them or not try and correct them.

"You haven't done anything, Melinda." Catherine doesn't use my full name often. That must mean, that despite her words, I did do something wrong.

I feel completely defeated. I've lost. I'm being sent home. I should go to the car and tell Nikki what's happened. We should get back to Las Vegas and continue on with the lives we've all left. I can go back to school and drown in my studies. Nikki can go back to work and continue having sex with other people. Lindsey can do her paintings and everything can be perfect again as it's all falling apart.

It'll be like I haven't done anything at all. It'll be exactly like Catherine just said: 'You haven't done anything'. If Mom and I don't walk out of here together, then I don't know why I even bothered to take her here in the first place.

"Go on," Catherine tells me again.

I shake my head. "No."

"Melinda, don't be difficult."

"You should go back to Vegas, Catherine." I take a quick look around, already anticipating the difficulty I might run into while trying to find my mother. "I'm the one that brought Mom out and I should be the one to bring her back."

"Mel..."

"Don't," I wave her concern away. "I'm a big girl now, Catherine." I try and offer her a smile that isn't too weak, that doesn't expose the bits of me that make me look broken.

"You called me." It's not a gentle reminder, and it makes it perfectly clear that Catherine will always see my broken pieces no matter how hard I try to hide them.

"I did," It'd be pretty stupid of me to try and deny that now. "I called you for Mom," I admit. "I wanted you to make it all better, but you can't."

Catherine takes a step away from me and looks at me like I've just slapped her across the face. In a way, perhaps I have. I know I have. But, all I have left right now is my honesty. We can't keep up the lies any longer. "I thought I called you out here for Mom," I correct my earlier statement. "But she didn't need you Cath." I look down as I kick at the coagulated dirt. "She needs me," I whisper. "I'm the one that needs you. This whole time," I sigh, "this whole fucking time she just needed me and I keep shoving other people out in front of me towards her hoping they can handle the shit that I can't."

Somehow I manage not to jump out of my skin when Catherine's hands cup my face and force me to look at her. "I love your mother, more than anything." She's crying and I know that I'm responsible for it. "But, I've always known that I was…I'm not enough to help her." Her thumbs caress my cheeks and then her hands drop away, and she moves away from me.

Suddenly, I'm reminded of those few short days ago when Catherine was standing across from me admitting to me that she was worn down and worn out. She was going to leave it up to me to help my mother, and so fast forward to the here and now and all I've managed to do is make Catherine use up all the strength she didn't have left to give, but gave to me anyway.

Her back is turned to me now, and I don't know what she's thinking or even really what she's doing, but I close the physical barrier between us and wrap my arms around her. I pull her to my body and will my body heat to warm up all the bits of her that are cold and tired. "I've let you down, Mom," I softly admit.

Her body begins to shake and I know that she's crying, so I tighten my arms around her. "Go home," I tell her. "Do what you need to do; I'll get Sara."

Catherine's hands rise and wipe at her face, her tears still being hidden from me. "You haven't let me down," she finally protests, it coming too late for me to rightfully believe.

"No," I sigh, "I have, and I'm sorry." I close my eyes, doing my best to force away my own tears. Now isn't a good time for them. "I've been stumbling over one bad decision after another hoping I'd eventually stumble into something…better." I laugh self-deprecatingly. "It's not getting better."

Catherine laughs with me. "Welcome to adulthood," she says as she turns around in my arms.

"Can I resign my commission?" I ask, as I put some distance between us and let my arms drop away from holding her up.

"It's a lifelong appointment," she tells me. "I haven't figured out a way to give it up yet."

"Fuck," I mutter, "that sucks."

Silence rests between us for a moment while we each blatantly stare at each other. I don't know what Catherine's looking at or for, and I'm pretty sure she doesn't know what I'm seeking to find from within her either. But, we can't stand here forever. My mother is out here somewhere, upset and lonely and it's my responsibility to find her. It's my responsibility to help her the best I can, because whether it's fair or not, I'm the only one that can do it. I'm the only one she'll let do it.

"Are you two alright?" Nikki's voice calls from behind me. "Where's Sara?" I guess she got tired of waiting in the car.

Finally, I turn away from Catherine and face the woman who's, for the most part, been needlessly drug out into this whole mess. "She ran off," I say as I move closer to her. "I'm about to go looking for her."

"Do you need help?" She immediately offers.

Despite everything that's just happened, I want to tell Niki that I do want her help. I want to beg her to not leave me alone to deal with my mother on my own anymore. I want her to take me from this graveyard and drive me back to Las Vegas. I want her to be my ticket out of this…like she's always been.

Before I can open my mouth to say anything, Catherine steps up beside me and places her hand on my arm. My eyes turn to her, and I can tell she's giving me permission to back out. She's letting me know that if I ask Nikki for help then she's not going to hold anything against me. She doesn't expect me to do this all on my own, and if this whole situation was etched in little black and white lines without any of the gray that's colored its insides, then I'd take Catherine's permission and run with it. But, the pieces are all gray now, and there's hardly any black and white left.

For me, I know I need to do this alone. I need to make peace with my mother. I need this, Sara needs this. "You need to go back to Las Vegas." I step out of Catherine's hold only so that I can move closer to Nik. "I need to finish here with my mother."

Nikki looks confused, and it's understandable why she would feel that way. She's been left out of the loop on this whole conversation. She doesn't know what's going on, and I'm not entirely sure she ever really did. She was just doing what she could because that's what she's always done for me.

Looking in her eyes now, kind of makes me wonder when it'll really be her turn for me to be completely in her corner. When will I be able to make all the sacrifices for her instead of it constantly being the other way around?

"I'll see you both in Vegas." I step away from them both. I won't offer any goodbye hugs because I know that the moment I step into their arms, I'll let them drag me off with them. I'll let them aid me in running away and shielding me from these particular realities of my life.

Nikki tries to take a step towards me, but Catherine intercepts her by taking a hold of her hand. Nikki looks at her, trying to decipher the situation, and eventually backs off. She trusts Cath, she always has. "Call me," she orders.

"Of course." I wink at her, trying to let her know that things probably aren't as dire as they may currently appear.

Cath and I share another look before they both turn away and then leave me alone in this stupid, cemetery alone. I take a look around, hoping to get some kind of unearthly sense of where my mother might have run away to but I guess my psychic powers don't exist, because I have no clue where she might be and have no gut feeling of which direction to head in.

It'd take me less time to catch up to Cath and Nik then it would for me to seek out my little runaway. But, since I've already chosen to make things much more difficult than necessary, I force myself to not follow in Cath's and Nik's foot steps. Instead, I choose a direction that seems good enough, take in a deep breath, and then start walking, with my mother's name drifting off the edges of my tongue.


End file.
